at his funeral i did not cry
because of his death (for
i knew this, the eventual end
of his flesh, would come)
but for the loss accompanied.
i suddenly felt alone without
that seemingly trivial comfort,
to watch his lips move and curl
around syllables with elastic grace,
unable to ever know how
i existed, or even if i did exist,
beyond those barriers.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment