This sadness hurts my arms

Too soon, we were rushed out of this parting with hurried words

And food and cheer. There was no time to cradle our slipping memories

And nurse it like a stagnant water bag. The puddle has been disturbed,

The children stepped unabashedly kicking rainbows into shards of tears.

This parting I have packed my duffel, folded all the laughter that have 

Grown too big to fit and stuffed them back like loops of spilled guts. 

I miss this violently. The tears do not come because I am worn down by the

Weight of sadness. I miss everyone violently till the world vibrates

And shivers the way an amputated finger twitch at an old memory.

Just a familiar voice — give me and I will cling onto it till it is papery and

Flaking and brings me to sleep. In my dreams I see it again, the sky as 

Vast and wide as our smiles, and my arms no longer hurt with a kind of 

Grief.