Member-only story
Unlost
By Ansley Alia
The last time I boarded a plane after kissing you, I was in tears. The night before was spent mentally tracing the outline of the tattoo on your chest. I laid awake inhaling desperately trying to memorize your scent. I counted your heart beats and the seconds I had left until the sun would rise to take you away. I prayed to God, begging him to cancel every tomorrow. I just needed a little more time. The chirping of the morning birds was the saddest song ever sang. You stumbled out of sleep and I bit my tongue as we drove to the airport. The silence was thundering and each step from your car to the terminal was paralyzing. I remember turning to wave. The face that I would fight wars to protect was glowing from the illumination of a cell phone. You smiled at the screen and I waited with weak knees. It took everything in me not to drop to them as I watched you disappear into the expanse.
Your eyes have always looked like goodbye. Your hand always felt curious in mine. You read me my last rights with each word you spoke. It’s cruel the way you moved me. Purgatory was my home after a weekend spent with you. No amount of prayer could save me from your embrace. I would’ve risked life, liberty, and happiness for the curl of your smile. Your wink set wild fires that never seemed to burn out. I choked on the smoke searching for you anyway.
