Orbital

I left Earth in Venice

for her hazy eyes and sodium tears,

were not mine to be seen.

We sat by the water's edge,

gondolas drifting by in the May warmth,

oxygen curling around us in slow tendrils.

Indigo stained my palms, mangos my lips,

she had shown me so much

beauty in our years together.

We talked about our parents

and how the sky tilts to our whims,

how tides brim with need, like us on Tuesdays.

We promised to meet again,

in either Barcelona or Liverpool,

but I wonder if I can,

meet her,

If I know the space stretched before me.