Scar Tissue

we followed the sun
rested our blistered soles on the moon and spun around the earth
over and over
far above clouds we bounced over with lighter hearts

by which I mean we fell in love
maybe
–and fell out of it–
survived it anyway.
threw up a little from the motion sickness.

tomorrow will be different
drink 8 glasses of water and not miss a single call for prayer
shower in the morning
walk in the rain
have a stranger punch me in the face
(feel something)

by which I mean we cannot crawl into each other
and shut out the cold–
thermodynamics.
you cannot outrun the physics
gravity will pull you down
or your errant heart will buzz about in ever tightening circles until it self-implodes
or you will shoot out of orbit and find yourself untethered within static
I don’t know man, I haven’t touched a physics text in a year
I’ve always been better at rhyme over reason
although not even that. lately.

we swallowed the sun
to maybe soothe our burning lungs
(fight fire with fire)
melt away our insides thinking then we could fit better
I don’t want to end on a bad note
so let’s hitchhike on shooting stars
and press salve onto each other’s palms
hurtle through the atmosphere and sing the alphabet
pretend the heat hasn’t left us shrivelled husks
who (finally) fit into each other like puzzle pieces

there’s a garden here
somewhere
tell me there’s a garden that survived the summer