Here Comes The Month

Here comes the month
down a narrow aisle
my eyes only half-look
because if they allowed the entirety of the vision
they may never watch anything else

I never thought I'd see a ghost march,
until now--
if you haven't, I'll explain how--
the movement is something like a missed beat
it walks in places we skip
the eerie hum of the piano deepens with each slow blink
the notes press themselves into me
almost like the player is sitting on my chest

The music compels the stillness into a moving confession:
I don't remember you everyday
because my mind is not the place you left
when you went away
and one can only recall something once forgotten
But if remembering could trace you back to life
I would force myself to forget every night
in each of the rooms you never entered
in all of the dreams you never visited

And I ask for no moment of silence
because your laughter is like fairy dust
you sprinkled it into my life
and it stays with me
even after all of the fearful shaking
even after relenting to sad exhaustion
 under clouds breaking...
Your happiness is still glitter on my mind
I hear it, and I know you're okay
So I know it's okay, for me to be okay, too.