Mono no aware

I

watched through the window,

not the woman bowing, but

the sun rising out of her like

a wildfire.

Piano keys tiptoeing along her hunched

back and if you looked close enough you would see

her lips dancing to the language of god.

She was praying. Which is why I remember it.

​

The warm rain in november at the daybreak of autumn.

I was only nineteen. At a young age we are told

in order to be loved we have to reveal every part of ourselves.

The way the world opens its legs in order to be torn.

​

That one night, I decided to look out the window once more.

There she was surrounded by shadows

reading into a book with no end. From up here

I imagined giving myself up.

-a season throwing itself into an abyss-

Open mouthed, as if I was some prisoner

hoping to be touched. From up here

there must be a god. The curtains unveiling rose-red like

oil and maybe you were my ticket. To somewhere where we

exist beyond this glass that I call home.

​

And for a moment I let go I didn’t know the price of love would be

everything

That in a world where beauty

is in the eye of the beholder,

I would choose to ignite

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