Preparations

PREPARATIONS
 
 
I know the day is coming. 
Rolling toward me like deep fog. 
 
I will be alone in the moments after you’re gone, 
and the silence will sound different. 
 
The world humming in a different pitch without you in it. 
 
Some might say I am stupid/morbid/dark 
living out your death in my head now, 
while you’re still here. 
 
But this is the only way I know to prepare— 
to touch that monstrous fog from 
the safety of your presence, 

and will myself to remember 
                                    —always remember 

these unrepeatable days of your magic
and the way you taught me to love things.  

We were playing rock out in the creek yesterday (iykyk), and I was thinking of the many bodies of water he and I have been in together, from Maine to Arizona. How many trails we’ve walked, me usually following behind— literally thousands of miles through the woods of upstate NY, and the deserts and mountains of the southwest. This boy has been my one constant through years of tumult and change. 

They say everyone who’s had a dog, has that one that takes over your soul. 
He is my one. Hashtag Riggs forever.