We terrify the stars.
And if the seconds tick slower,
how long will it take
for our worlds to meet –
diverge – become one,
for us to reach and finally
be able to touch?
The universe has conspired
to keep us apart,
has stretched out days
and months, years,
Because together, we could
conquer it – and this, it seems,
these light years of distance
are all it can do
to keep us at bay.
What we’re made for.
We were not made for this:
we were made for midnight drives to nowhere, finding roads overrun with brambles and the distinct feeling that we’ve been here before –
we were made for mountain peaks and open windows, for screaming lyrics we should have forgotten but that time failed to erode –
we were made for hand-in-hand, cold sand at dusk and sea foam lapping at toes as the sun waves goodbye and the stars blink awake and the bottle between us sinks low –
we were made for photo books of memories that aren’t even pictured, but we see that one snapshot where we’re perched on that car hood and, oh, do you remember that night? the garage band drum set you didn’t know how to play and the skateboards we skinned our knees on –
that’s what we were made for; not for this pain, but the stories it creates – because one day we’ll look back on this and maybe there won’t be pictures but one day, maybe, when we’ve all gone gray, we’ll look back and we’ll remember how we felt and what we did and what we said, and those stories will spin stories of their own,
until we drain the wine
because that is what we’re made for.
Lexi Vranick is a poet and fiction writer residing on (not in!) Long Island, New York. She is the self-published author of three titles including Ready Aim Fire: A Poetry Collection. Lexi holds a Bachelor of Arts in Literature from Excelsior College. Her work has appeared in the Fly on the Wall Press anthology Please Hear What I’m Not Saying and in Cagibi Lit. More of Lexi’s work can be found at lexivranick.com.