Until Later Poem by Maya Hanson

I wish I could cross my arms
and cross your mind
But instead they hang straight down like unwanted leashes,
holding me to this heart

Of all your souls scattering like suns,
I am not the best of them
I'm just another way to suffocate your drawn out chains,
building a mountain in five days
to leave behind when you escape
to the deep cuts in your sandy rib cage and hollowed lungs

Knowing this,
I still slide up your mouth like water
I won't breathe you into oxygen
I won't taste you until later
I can't harmonize with your sly slips away every time your dry memories make a chasm you can gift to me
when I'm still miles behind

Of all the holes you dig
to throw away your old body and carve new saltwater limbs
and part the seas, pretend to
make me invincible and bring me home
I am not the best of them.
But I won't be the worst.

Until later,
my past murmurs
and I loosen my clasp on your fingers
so you're one with the sea.