alumni

we sat beneath the rain

the walls of the house soaked with our laughter

*

each drop a quiet attempt

to keep us there a little longer.

each drop an addition to the bottom of the hourglass, swallowing up the time i have left

*

it gives and it takes and it steals and taunts me

*

later, when i walked outside,

his ring sat heavy on my finger:

a plea too fragile for me to say out loud

*

your jacket was in my hands,

smelling faintly of you,

its sleeves dripping at my sides

reluctant to leave as well.

I am clutching it on the car ride home the same way i did while i avoided letting go of you

*

goodbye came softly

damp sleeves, tired smiles, wet eyes

and the ache of watching a bedroom light disappear

through the rain we could not outrun.

*

years from now,

i will still hear the rain pour

and remember what love can look like.

borrowed leather in trembling hands,

a glint of silver in the cold night,

a promise to see you next time.