The ending of youth in Newton’s three laws of motion

I. law of inertia

I want to lay underneath the foggy star-speckled cloak,
nestled in the grey sweater I never returned
to you, threaded with evening dew. Your crooked smile next to me,
mischief brewing through your stormy brown eyes in adagio.
Gravity tugged
a little more aggressively lately, as if reminding
that we are in a race. But just a little longer,
let me picture us like this.

Chasing the world, we will always be running.

II. f = ma

Rainwater and smoke and wishes—blurs
of motion that only adds. I wonder if I could capture
the touch of a petal, the way your namesake cuvée pinot noir
delights and allures. Only after the rush of board game nights
did I realise the snowballing effect of an innocent
“You want to dance?” The fear of falling
means nothing if you know how to step.

The past only holds weight if you let it.

III. equal and opposite reactions

We took too little polaroids,
you signed promises upon them, even with days numbered
by dimming lights of the track-and-field staircase.
And just like your off-form lay-up shots,
a basketball thrower needs his catcher. The dawn
will continue spinning, but just trust that the streetlights will return
the favor when the salt-licked night spills over.

You can’t paint a masterpiece without getting some on yourself.

Fire roaring insatiably, uncaring of the climb ahead.

Meeting you had to be something more
than life’s cause-and-effect.