If You

Nostalgia

If you must wait

Wait for me here, by the miles of marshes

To the left of the chilling river,

Outside the modern forest, and the racing highways.

If you must mourn

Mourn the loss of the night, with the suns golden

Strands grazing across your skin, until it’s slightly tanned

And your forehead is covered in salty pellets of sweat.

If you must leave

Leave me here in the dark and follow the map

Placed in the drawer of my desk,

Chasing the footsteps we once walked in.

If you must speak,

Speak every word as though it were unique,

Write to me once you’re gone,

So that I won’t forget what you sound like.

If you must live,

Live out of suitcases between each city,

Never come back to one twice

Even when your ashes are scattered in the Atlantic Ocean.