Jetcloud

i’ve done this before
while people say goodbye i
try to remember the first time

as long as i’ve gone,
even leaving’s nothing new
i consider each experience,
as though ends are still supposed to mean
anywhere as much as beginnings

i am a park bench and
i am watching you, even
though we’ve never met, and
won’t
under the archway you have
no idea it’s my mistletoe as you
snap one so you’ll
never remember that
it’s okay to forget

i wonder when it was that
you met her for the first
time +
if the last will be important
or just a goodbye neither of you say

someone from before me says
this girl’s life is a jetcloud
on an overcast day i decide
we’re all just regular clouds
gathered together

i don’t tell storms i’ll see them
again, they
show up from time to time to
remind me they’re still around

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