The light never left. We just lost the way through. There wasn’t one bad evening we could circle on a date, nothing either one of us could point to as the change. We got good at finishing the easy parts instead, leaving half a thought between us where the rest had always been. I noticed it in pieces how your voice would lose its ease, how a minute felt much longer with you sitting next to me. By then the dark was moving and neither one looked up. I could still feel the warmth somewhere past the cold, close enough to remember, too far out to hold. And every time I thought it cleared, another inch went dim. If this is only passing, why are we still underneath? Why can I still see you clearly and not get through to anything? There’s a light behind the shadow. I know because I’ve seen it move. Maybe love can stay exactly where it was and still lose you. Maybe this is what it looks like in an eclipse. Still there— just out of reach. Still there— where it used to be. You still laugh in all the places where I know the line by heart, still turn your head before I finish like you know where I will start. That’s the part I can’t explain: how much of us still works. How the smallest things remember while the larger thing gets worse. I keep waiting for a moment big enough to make it clear, but the strangest kind of leaving is the kind that stays right here. I can still feel the warmth somewhere past the cold, close enough to remember, too far out to hold. And every time I think it’s clearing, something crosses it again. If this is only passing, why are we still underneath? Why can I still see you clearly and not get through to anything? There’s a light behind the shadow. I know because I’ve seen it move. Maybe love can stay exactly where it was and still lose you. Maybe this is what it looks like in an eclipse. I think I could have understood if one of us had changed, if something broke so cleanly we could give the break a name. But you’re still unmistakably you, and I’m still answering the same. It’s only when I reach for us I find the distance in the way. Maybe that’s what makes this harder Nothing left, Nothing gone, Just enough between the two of us to keep the light from coming on. If this is only passing, why are we still underneath? Why can I still see you clearly and not get through to anything? There’s a light behind the shadow. I know because I’ve seen it move. Maybe love can stay exactly where it was and still lose you. If the dark is only borrowed, let it give us back the view. Maybe this is what survives when everything familiar stops getting through. Maybe love can live through an eclipse. Maybe we can too. Eclipse— the light never left...
