Elliptical

     I don't know what happened and I don't think I'll ever understand how we lived in each other's palms and how you're fingerprints became suns and moons or how you left something like planets on my skin. You turned into silver and gold threads , longer than our veins and laced right through my skull, swelling up with every single thought I ever had. And we always had these state lines cradled in our shaking hands but it never stopped our fingers from intertwining or our spines from melting into mountains. Sometimes it would feel like the stars coughed us up and our eyes were always tinted blue from looking up. So I'll never understand how you let me lay on the floorboards in your chest and sleep inside your ribcage when you were always going to leave. I have your words and promises, still soft with cracked edges like seashells in my back pockets because I promised I wouldn't let them get swallowed by the shore but it doesn't really matter. 
WE DON'T EXIST ANYMORE.