You know that picture that we took together, the one I love because it wasn’t planned and we’re both smiling and the lighting is perfect? yeah, well I cropped you out of it.
I had to remove you from things that I looked at and reminded me of the brief flirtation with joy you brought me. I had to get rid of the evidence that once I smiled so fully, so freely, merely because i could feel you next to me, and if I turned my head just slightly to the left, I could smell you, and if I thrust my right leg a little too far to the left while trying to cross them, i could feel you.
I needed to mutilate something that represented the perfection of potential; to flaw something that died in its infantile stage, without having the chance to be corrupted in the way that we do to every beautiful thing as people, in the hope that it would mar these memories that refuse the gentle nudge of time to fade away.
I cropped you out of the picture to see if I would still look as happy without your presence emanating onto me on the virtual orthochromatic sheet, whether the wavelengths of light would still mingle and dazzle together in your absence as they did before, or whether a slight dulling would occur, evident only to the photosensitive irises of the one with sullied vision.
Her water broke
Into the sea of life;
A lifelong flood of love.