Without You to Hold Onto

To things you never thought you’d lose.

A continuation of True Life: I’m Turning Blueish-Green

We knew it would happen this way. You were uncomfortable—jittery, squirming, giggling— just the kind of night when things would go wrong. I was there, like I aways am, rolling around in the back of your mind, kissing the circumference of your third finger. On, off, on, off– You laughed and slipped me from one finger to the next. I was warm, the way you make me when your fingers start to blush and sweat. Crooked and familiar, I rode through the night with you.

You were chatting, not paying attention. You were fidgeting and I was sliding. You tugged me off your finger, and I kept flying.

At least you knew I was gone. At least you looked for me. If only you had been listening, you could have heard where I landed. You could have checked the back seat. You could have called to your friends, telling them to go ahead. You could have pulled the taxi apart, piece by piece, until my crooked copper rolled out onto the pavement. But you didn’t. You apologized to the driver, touched the spot where I used to be, and stepped away.

Today, I ride in circles around you. I hear unfamiliar voices as the chilling air makes me brittle and empty. I imagine your finger losing the green hue I used to leave on it. Your hand, naked, silently tapping without the percussion I provided.

Darling, don’t forget me: The ring that will always be shaped to hold you, living without you to hold onto.


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