RELATIONSHIP Poem: getting older, by Rebby Onken

it is a privilege to grow older
every year takes me further from the harm
and towards a future spinning forward on

you were there, you remember, you cannot forget:
me, my head, splitting like a melon thick
life struck me hard and cracked it
between expectation hands

I wept, watermelon blood on the floor
all who saw it cannot unsee,
the young in me turned to black seed
them, I swallowed, to carry on

now the ages turn, fresh on june mornings
every year, I wait, turn toward the wash of achy bones
my melon head, grown back by hands
like yours, leans in for more

love me, why don’t you, in the hours while we wait
press your breath into letter-envelopes like sevak says
then we can be in the same place out of time

if you miss me more, beyond the cutting paper we exchange
we’ll get on 20s zoom and listen to 80s bauhaus together
then time will collapse—
me into you, you into me

you can just be here with me,
and I’ll be there with you
then we’ll grow old together
but get younger all the time