Five was my favorite number when I turned six.
Yes I was completely aware
I had graduated from the age of the number five.
But still I found comfort
Simply because 5
represented my universe.
I loved my role model sister,
My sweetheart girlfriend, best friend,
my gentle father and mother,
and my own sparkling self.
Eight years later 4 became my newfound favorite.
My universe had been subtracted by 1.
my sister that lay
still and cold in the December ground.
“Loss” is how it was described
I was 18 when I was absolutely sure
stop choosing favorite numbers.
“3!” I shouted.
“It stops at 3.”
Needless to say Caroline had left me too.
Was our love not strong enough for her?
Long-distance, she said.
Too much- too soon, she said.
Three it would stay.
I spoke too soon.
My childhood companion. My precious other half
became a ghost three years later.
“Lost soul” is how the neighbors described him.
How could he be so lost?
So lonely, when I am right here?
Here I am. Come back.
I miss three.
After careful thought,
two isn’t that much of a lonely number.
It takes two to tango.
It takes two hands to clap.
And it only takes two
to make my universe complete.
I had officially deemed myself a
“wandering soul”at thirty years of age.
“Wandering” is exactly
how my parents described
themselves to me.
Too wandering to be 2 anymore.
Then I was left with 1.
What a fantastical despair to know
the real meaning of “alone”.
5 was too great for my universe.
4 was made of “loss”.
3 caused by “distance”.
2 resulted from “runaway”.
1 was left with “wandering”.