A.

asthewhitecrowflies:

I remember the night we went
to see the Northern Lights,
but we didn’t see the Lights.
Instead we sat on the rocks
and took pictures and wrote;
mostly we smelled the sea.

Red hair and pale skin,
too much of us,
too little of what we shared.
There was not enough joy in the world
for both of us.

Like magnets, we drew together,
pushed apart, paradoxical forces.
She made me so mad,
so lost, so alive,
no more my peer than a fairy
or a demon.