I don’t want to disappear.
That’s always been your magic act,
vanishing into thin air,
a trick that caught me
off guard like a sleight of hand.
I don’t want you to disappear.
I don’t have a right to ground you, superman,
but I wish that you’d pack up your red cape and top hat
and crash land, fall from the sky with me again,
slowly touching down.
I don’t want us to disappear.
I don’t know which of us is what element
because we’re both hard to grasp and harder still to solder
but I’m terrified of
you and I dissolving off the deep end,
leaving just a whisper over old Irish hills.