I wrote poems across the silver of
your tombstone. knowing your
bones were beneath my knees. trying to
recreate- how I lov{ed} thee- with the initials of {R.I.P}.

And I tasted dead rose petals
to feel you digest inside me.
Quilting love letters across
the length of your grave.

praying to God ‘please’ let it rain.
dissolve the sound of tears to the soil of
this earth, and sing sweet lullabies
inside the demise of skeletal ears.

And I struggled for some sort of sign.
clutching fireflies under the moon for some
sense of light. as the wind caught my cries in the palm
of his hands. I searched for an opening of mud and sand.

I was digging as if living
through a dream, reality was lost.
or so it seems. and I will devour the
ground just to set you free.

Because when you died -
you somehow forgot to take me.

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