The following was written about my ex, whose birthday is two days before Independence Day. We had been broken up for a while but i forgot to take her Birthday off my phone calendar. This is about saying happy birthday to someone you lost.
You had different laughs of different births
and destinies truly singing.
I set out to define each one.
Memorized, I made a mapping.
Of past and possible sources.
Predicted where each would come from next.
All your laughings; gentle markings
of my enamored purposed jests.
You had ways to say “no” that were of
the same yet different languages.
Dialects; from these homonyms
you chose with wit so swiftly.
Passioned boldly; briefly word
seizing motion, meaninged clearly.
How you turned down my proposings:
the teasing “no!” I miss most dearly.
And your chin when rising subtle
as you shyly, coyly, smiled,
seemed to reach for rounding cheektops,
lashes bowing for you closed-eyed.
And your frowning moaning whining,
sighing “Aww…” and pleading “Baby…”.
fake complaining; love concealing;
seeking more affection—maybe…
If you’re wondering my motive
for this list of praise deliberate,
though the you I praise have gone,
from me, I must with pain still celebrate.
I’ll imagine the fluffy candleholder,
icing-ed colors and tiny fires.
And pretend you present for one sing-along,
one prayer for your desires.
In the selfish silence, I’ll hijack a candle.
Memory fishing—woeful wishing.
With a deep wounded sigh, I’ll beg of the smoke
to gift back who I’ve been missing.
For if all my wishes were made into horses,
I’d brand them all with your name.
And every one of my crowded stables
from each other would look the same.
But the meaning of the phrase I used:
satiric self-serving simile.
It’s neither generous nor realistic,
though there they may be no meaning, actually.
So I’ll go back to the motive,
the reason for my listing.
To celebrate and praise you,
offer you my strongest wishing.
Six months of
yet still two days till.
I wish you a life bright and lovely as fireworks.
And all your desires fulfilled.