i remember him like daffodils on my grandmother's dining table. i remember his voice like soft whispers between the ocean and its sand. i remember his stride like angels walking on clouds to get back to the gates of heaven. i remember his smile peaking over the horizon like the sun over squinting eyes. and his hands…they made miracles like a carpenter named Jesus. he was the love of my life and he taught me all too well how short life can be.
he made me laugh so hard it felt like thunder kicked against my ribcage and i had lighting in my laugh and rain clouds for eyes. he had always gotten to the core of me, tapping on the very soul of me like i needed his rib to breathe. he had a way of bringing out the best in me. i thought i was going to marry him just so i could spend the rest of my life being a better person. he even tattooed my name on his finger just so that everything he touched would turn to gold, like the color of my skin he said. and like midas, he was my king. so i watched him put paint to a canvas, ink to a paper and create masterpieces with the light i had within. i watched people praise his artistry begging to see his muse, begging him to tell them who or what was his inspiration and every time he would answer them the same - "the only way you would know a star out of the millions in the sky is if you wished upon one. i made my wish and she came falling from the sky. the only way you would know a special woman from the millions on the street is if you loved her. you will never see what i see when i look at her. my muse isn't a muse at all, she's a wish come true."
i loved him for that. i loved him for believing that i was a unique gift that he could multiply every time our lips touched. i loved him in places of myself that not even God knew. i loved him like children loved ice cream so much that it ends up all over their face. i wore him all over mine. i had that glow, that 'you must be in love' glow, that 'you found your soulmate' glow, that 'you found the last puzzle to your picture' glow. i wore him all over me like prom dresses in mississippi and like sweat on island women, i wore him all over me.
and then he hit that curve too soon and too fast. the tires skipped like a scratched cd. the metal crumpled like a piece of paper in a trashcan. the sound was so loud, i thought the earth was belching. he hit that curve too soon. he hit that curve too fast. and he died on that dirt road, his blood fresh to the soil that i begged never to grow flowers. his last breath was stuck to that steering wheel while i was scraping through hot metal screaming at God to give him back to me. i was stuck wondering when life was going to tell me that death was coming to visit. i tied myself to his ashes like ribbons in the sky hoping that his dust would rise and kiss me one more time, hold me one more time, love me one more day. but he hit that curve too soon and he hit that curve too fast. and even though i tattooed his name on the sole of my foot just so he can carry me through life, i'm so mad the sky asked for its star back, the most beautiful indian giver i had ever seen. i'm so mad that he's shedding light from so far away when our bedroom is so dark. i love him, but when i look through my window or look through my soul, i see that one star out of millions and i wish every day that i could be the moon just so i could be a little bit closer to him.
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