Breakup poem in the oldest sense

by Abner Dormiendo

I’ve been living with the fact of you
even at the moment of divide,
parting, what have you, what had you
and your boat floating on the ocean
of love, that that keeps us from drowning
in it or de-evolving into using gills
if de-evolution is even a scientific thing,
then take me back to the time with wings
and animal teeth bigger than the sum
of all my hunger thus far, our bodies
fitting each other like the coastlined
continents once did in their long sleep
above this older version of the sea,
meaning if salt water is an age-old
metaphor for love, then once we were
earth and sky and water, water, water
thriving at the absence of the living we,
being the human beings that we are,
the only creatures thus far to get nostalgia,
as if it’s a bad thing to remember the feeling
of what once was truth but not anymore


Day 11 of NaPoWriMo required a formal prompt (Sapphics). As much as I like exercises in discipline, the form felt too restricting for me, so again I decided not to follow it. This poem was originally intended to tell another thing, and then it just blossomed on its own.

I’ve got a lot more catching up to do!