Ellipsis || Poetry ✓

23 February : of ladders and the pixie dust in your hair

//very experimental, let me know what you think, thanks//

~~~

I'm building a ladder.

They say alder trees are best for it,
So that's where I'm going.
You are tagging along, I don't know why.
I have my trekking boots on, and
My axe is balanced over my shoulder.
You have a skip to your steps,
A cresent moon smile on your lips.
From the corner of my eyes, I see the way the breeze ruffles your hair,
Pixie dust flying in all directions.
You are humming a song I have never heard.

What do you know of ladders, I ask you.
Hmm? You seem distracted, so I repeat my question.
Ladders? You chuckle. Like, to the moon?
I look up when you say that.
The sun is up, the sky is a beautiful shade of blue, as if it's reflecting your brilliance and nothing less.
Not a ladder to the moon, I say. A different kind.
Like what?
I say nothing.
I turn to you and try to gauge your height.
It's difficult. I'm not good with practical math.
The words how-tall-are-you are on the tip of my tongue but I swallow them.
I don't want to be insensitive.

You're singing the song aloud now.
I can only understand half the words.
I smile and look up at the sky.
I'm glad you came, I say (or do I?)
I don't know if you heard.

When I reach the alder tree, you are no longer with me.
I can still hear your voice, and the faint echo of your laughter.
I begin to chop down the tree - thud thud thud
Maybe I'm crying.
Or maybe you are.
Or maybe the tree is.
I don't know, and I don't care, because I need to build a ladder before sunset.

Soon
I gather the wood, pull out the ropes and begin to weave myself a ladder.
I turn on a YouTube tutorial.
I know it's unromantic.
I know you would've said no, it's just a different kind of romantic.

I am building a ladder.
In the midst of a forest,
Using a dying tree,
Underneath a sky that's reflecting your sheer brilliance.
I begin to miss you, but your absence is for the better.

The person on the video is asking me to get my measurements correct, so I take out the tape.
How tall are you building the ladder?
Get the markings done first.
Have a 12 inch gap between...

I zone out when I realize my mistake.
I look around; there's no one beside me.
Especially not you.
(I begin to wonder if you ever joined me on my trek to this forest.)
I sigh and sit down on the ground,
Next to a purple rose bush.
The moon is shinning though the sun is up.

I should've asked your height when I had the chance.
How am I supposed to build my ladder now?

~~

why is getting over you so impossible?