Manjira Das

“I still love you like moons love the planets they circle around,
like children love recess bells.
I still hear the sound of you
and think of playgrounds
where outcasts who stutter
beneath braces and bruises and acne
are finally learning that their rich handsome bullies
are never gonna grow up to be happy.
I think of happy when I think of you.
So wherever you are I hope you’re happy,
I really do.
I hope the stars are kissing your cheeks tonight
I hope you finally found a way to quit smoking
I hope your lungs are open and breathing this life
I hope there’s a kite in your hand
that’s flying all the way up to Orion
and you still got a thousand yards of string to let out.
I hope you’re smiling
like God is pulling at the corners of your mouth,
‘cause I might be naked and lonely
shaking branches for bones
but I’m still time zones away
from who I was the day before we met.
You were the first mile
where my heart broke a sweat,
and I wish you were here;
I wish you’d never left;
but mostly I wish you well.
I wish you my very, very best”
― Andrea Gibson