Uy, Pumopoetry

(For) Now

The wind flirts with my eyelashes

And I am forced to close my eyes

For a moment

And see sunsets of a world crafted

Out of our missed chances

I grab a hold of a memory before it flies away

And I fling it back to the deepest recesses of my mind

There it shall burrow until

It becomes inseparable with the reality

I fashioned for myself

I lace my fingers with that Promise

And It rubs a consoling thumb on a finger

Whose nail has been bitten to a mere nub

The thumb says, “Why do you weep,

When I told you I’ll come back?”

But the finger only knows of this Now

And the wind stops, and I open my eyes

And see the grey skies

For miles and miles and miles

This moment

At the cusp of dreaming and waking

This moment kills me

And makes me want to live forever

Only to die

Drowning in thoughts of if-onlys