I always thought there’d be fanfare and fireworks,
Banners unfurling, as we’re hurled from the bow of destiny into the rest of our lives.
We’d be sparkling stars, supernovae exploding in one last burst of magic and jager bombs.
Dressed in our finest, to the nines and well past it,
We’d reminisce on the years, good bits and bad bits.
Together we’d tear up, and tear up the town, wearing out our stories of the things that went down.
We’d bury the hatchet, kiss and make up
Patch over in patchword the things that we’d fucked
And smile at the thought that we were all, briefly, enough.
And yet, here we are, alone in our rooms.
Connected by Netflix, texting, and Zoom.
The banners are dusty
The fireworks are unlit
Our starlight is dimmed to a dull yellow tint
Our stories unweaved and our smiles but a glint.
It’s there though, somewhere, the big bold goodbye
The connected affection, the gleam in our eyes
Those stories still happened
And are happening still
Our paths still connected
And forever they will
So smile long for us all, and we’ll be reunited,
Through hell, high water, long distance, or virus.