A group of fireflies is called a sparkle

but I believe we could rename it for the better.

A flashmob. A disco. Phrasing only we fully know.

Light, I swear it’s the last time I’ll say this

& then I’ll let you grow alone, I’ll go, but

you made me want to voice an O every morning,

to crush on everything: your nose, dead bees,

any living creature that would listen to me sing.

I don’t even sing! But with you I loved boundlessly.

O, the gorgeous swell of your breath; O, the pink

feeling I felt when we first met; O, how I’ll never forget

any petals of delight even in my ache. O, O, O,

the multitudes, the swarm & shimmer, how I would yell

at clouds for you: damn their fluff! Fuck their gloom!

I would O at any matter for you. I would go vicious

& attack every bird that shits in your path. Pummel feathers

into bedsheets for you, I swear, I swear. I have to

ask: were we not each other’s grass?

I thought we stemmed from the same seed. I miss

plucking your hair in my dreams, speaking

of roaches but meaning we shared a love

that was abiding, one I couldn’t fathom but tried

to dive in. I want you to know I’m still

swimming. I’m still alive in it.