nothing we planned was impossible

your arms were the hinges of the world

nothing we planned was impossible.
your arms were the hinges of the world.
i felt them solid and trembling.
your eyes told me stories my laws could not believe.

you flashed the sole of your foot,
a tender weapon, a playful warning,
and smiled. begging—notbegging.

there were invitations sent in bitten lips,
one hand on the wheel— already
turning from the no you could not abide.

nothing we planned was impossible,
but we planned
nothing.

seems like a long time ago—
long before the heavens confused our speech,

long before we were scattered within
the silencing winds.