Approach

Everything draws closer, you feel the itch of tickets in your backpocket, how they delight and distract you. At every turn there is a message, or a plan, your calendar spills over and your suitcase buckles under the weight of silly gifts and heavy expectations. A small girl tugs at your skirt hem from the edge of her page, you both fear the departure and what it might mean. You have left and lost too many loves to endure it again, it is best to hold tight and you know it. For a minute, my heart leapt in my chest, but I hold on to it, restrain it to its rib cage: I have left and lost too many loves to endure it again, please just let me rest for a minute before I try.

Everything draws closer, everyone comes home in summer, there's a bead of sweat in the small of my back, there's a scar now where your lips used to rest, I fill this suitcase because the pit of my stomach is empty and I will not rest until I have filled it with magic.