Voicemail from the Ex- Poet to the Ex Girlfriend

This message will be too short to encapsulate how long you wish your relationship had lasted. You will think your life has ended like a poem ends as soon as the last line has escaped from the reader’s mouth the same way jet trails mark everything that has been left behind.

But there is still your own body language to learn, to become fluent in, instead of concentrating on all the syllables the soft underside of someone else’s thigh makes when it falls over yours- there are still so many words to decipher that only you alone can make.

He may have fled through your window or left directly from your bed, he may have left a thousand wounds inside your head, but you were never anything less than an entire poem.

You are not unfinished just because he has finished with you. There is something about the way owls call out in the middle of dusk

that reminds everyone on earth that “who” is not always a pronoun but sometimes a question. And yes, without him there will be twilights that feel like the perfect time for cops to arrive and file a missing person’s report for the one half of your heart that belonged to his, twilights in which, like the owls, you will call out to ask who you are without him.

We all feel like when one part of our lives has been lost, we are “something ex.” Ex-girlfriend, ex-poet, ex-ballerina. So please, before you erase this message, remember this: you are not his “ex marks the spot.”He is not on your map anymore, just as poetry is no longer on mine.

You will make beautiful geography alone. There is beauty in an Island.