Cold Bones

   I realize you’re running with the wolves
  Into the midnight- 
 Our time, where I held your hand tight
As you cried, “It hurts to love you” 

There was a time where Maps
 Were written in stars not states,
  Eyes were not lost but free, 
   Paths were not paved but destroyed

   I showed you such a map, 
  With no clear directions
 As there were no planned destinations
But places, waiting to be explored

We spent the summers in bed,
 Our sweaty bodies content laying 
  Next to each other
   -Those were the best times of our lives

   Those nights you spent laughing 
  Drawing red hearts around constellations,
 Pushing your hair back behind your ear 
And sighing out milky ways of uncertainty 

Those red hearts of cherry lipstick, 
 The strands of black hair- 
  Kept stuck in my pockets
   Kept me gravitating- for a Time 

   But now I sit on this bed
  These summer nights-
 Weighing down on me
Onto this mattress imprinted with your body

I had many places to go, 
 Named some after you
  But now they sit bare-
   Shriveled and broken down

   These four walls, 
  They saw the solar systems we drew on each other
 Tried to contain them and keep us grounded-
Now they sag like deflated balloons 

“I can feel your bones,” you said the last night
 While you caressed my ribs. 
  With your infinity eyes, that 
   Kept me lost for days 

   God, my only wish- 
  To have felt your bones that night
 To have kept a memory of them, so 
My bones, my cold bones, would stop shaking. 

By Christian Benavides