Text from an ex

I'm learning about getting older

How it's harder to breath in the water

The future feels like remembering

Awaking to the minor tragedy 

Of another Monday morning 

I don't really like parties anymore

If I ever did

I'm throwing wider as it's spinning 

Still slick lakeshore silt under hands

Opening at the opening of the opening 

A vessel made with space for holding 

I still wake to the faces of my every lover 

Tucked in the folds of yours

Those nights when edges fade and soften 

All my minor tragedies caught 

In the glimmer of the snowlight