In my grief I created a new languagefor the loss of you, and...

In my grief I created a new language
for the loss of you, 
and stood like a sacrifice
in open fields and hoped 
that God would hear
how much I wanted you back, 
that my mourning looked like 
burned trees still standing 
on breathing stumps
that this new language was terrible,
and ruining and full of hope 
and I’ve heard that 
baby love isn’t half as full 
as other kinds but they’re wrong.
There is a forest inside of me
and all of the trees are standing to attention 
for you
They’d all fall on your order, too,
give the word. 
Maybe you’re rain, 
or maybe you’re necessary 
but you decide. 
I’ll say in this language, that only 
God and whales can understand 
that if you come back, please come back,
you decide. 
If you want Mondays to be Saturdays now, 
if you want me to paint the sky black, 
if you need love like tap water,
you decide. 
I will say your name like a hymn, 
I will say your name like every ‘please’ I’ve ever meant, 
I will love you till birds grow in my throat, 
just come back, please, 
you decide.

Azra.T., Whale Song