Tagged: emptiness

forty-three hours have

forty-three hours have
passed since we lost you. i hide
the details
from my-

self, don’t get too close to the
edges for fear of falling


remember that year

remember that year
when we lost so
many… was the
joy ever worth
the long
aches afterwards?
everyone tries
these words
in their mouths
many times before
spitting them out.
they’re unswallowable
by any muscles
so the human spirit
keeps taking the bait

seconds before flight,

at the hour of

at the hour of
emptiness, we arrive
simultaneously, inches
from collision, so
close that biology
takes over, turns
our mouths
into exploratory
vehicles, equal
parts infection and
inoculation, of
and against
an unknown future

perhaps not these

perhaps not these
words, but the shadows
of these words are
for you. being with
or without
shadow is how i am
measuring every
word for the
remainder of
winter, allowing
you to collect them
like empty bottles
on the beach

against all odds was

against all odds was
playing at 4:04
a.m. when it happened –
with these things, it
could mean
and nothing –
perhaps we felt
the presence of
unknowing, and that
was enough for
a reach. even now,
i am still coming up
for air, listening for
and not seeing
there’s just
an empty space


i know, and now you

i know, and now you
know, how this will go –
there will be
one week when i will
be indecisive about emptying
the wicker trash bin in the
bedroom, months when i
will avoid vacuuming
one or two corners of the
apartment for fear of
erasing you, a year or
five may go by before i
walk down that street
or head to the cloisters
again, and still, there
will be pockets within
, here and there,
when i will, without so
many words, bump into
the feeling the last time…
was with you
over and
over, until you become
like a fragrance from
lifetimes before