Sandy

For Sandy

I didn't know what I had
until the space where you used to be
started talking back to me.

I remember your tears —
how I couldn't stay in the room with them,
because they were mine to answer for
and I didn't know how.
So I let you go instead of learning how to stay.

Years now. No word between us.
And still some nights you walk back in
uninvited, unaged,
exactly as I left you.

I'm not writing this hoping it finds you.
I'm writing it so I stop carrying it alone.

I hope your laugh still comes easy.
I hope the life you built
doesn't have my shadow anywhere in it.
That's the only apology
I get to give you now —
staying out of a joy I didn't earn.

I'm sorry.
Not enough to unmake anything.
Just true.