step zero: when you make a paper plane
skin moving over every crease of this sheet
step by step– each one a second closer, and
you know it’s meant to leave your hand.
step one: start with folding the white paper into half
this is your heart.
step two: unfold it
this is the 6th month since you met her
today is the first day you see her.
let her see you.
step three: fold the top right corner into the centre crease
let her touch you. in all ways possible
manoeuvre, move together
forward and back
listen to the music– living room,
you hear? you here?
step four: do the same with the other corner
let her hold your hands. hold
her hands. let her reach into you
inside and out. feel her breath in
your flesh. feel the spaces in her being
fill you with all the softness
you wish you had.
step five: fold the paper into half again
here. you are happy.
be. tell her you are.
step six: fold the diagonal flap upwards so it follows the side of the paper
you miss her, you really fucking miss her.
you miss her beside you;
you miss her in dreams;
in mental dialogues that never,
and will never happen;
you miss her in imaginary spaces;
in thought cavities and
you just do.
step seven: do the same on the other side.
you have loved her in all ways possible
or so you think you have. in showers
and bedsheet warmth
and the last seconds before you
fall asleep– quiet stairs
and especially humming
humming in the pace
your evening sounds
everything– she is in everything
step eight: fold the diagonal flap upwards another time
you try again. poetry in “lovely” pyramids
on the right– 186 apologies screaming
their sincerity and how
how do you know when she’ll
hear your voice amidst her sea?
step nine: do the same on the other side
it seems time passes at the rate
she does. goodnight.
but you know it’ll always
be the same silence
step ten: find an open space. aim and
is it time?
twist your shoulder back in the last step
of this mindless dancing– exhale
lift your wrist over your shoulder.
fling with careful precision.
let your fingers go.
watch her leave.
watch her fly, away from you
out of your thoughtless /
step eleven: look up, step back, remember–
you were the one who plotted her trajectory