a tiny flame glows.
momma consumes baby girl.
blue tendrils find her.
So, the lady at group said you can hear me when I talk to you even if you are dead.
Now, that I have your cosmic ear, I don’t know what to say…
I miss you?
I love you?
My world has not been the same without you.
My words have not been the same without you.
I fear I will never see you again.
I fear that I will.
I am hollow happy.
I met a man who loves me.
I think you would like him.
I have a community who loves me.
I think you would like them.
How do I fill myself again?
I guess it was my fault for loving an Aquarius like you who loves to travel.
You flit from one side of the country to the other haunting the coasts looking for love.
You died on vacation.
I don’t know how our farewells would have been different if I had known it was our last.
Maybe I would not have let you go and pressed you into my heart until we were one again.
You were never one for the sentimental.
I pretend you can read this.
I pretend you guide this story.
I pretend you are here with me.
It’s been a lonely Charlottesville winter without you.
I woke up thinking of my momma last night.
I didn’t cry, I just listened to your breathing.
I wanted to call your name but it was late, and
you were up with me the night before.
I can’t remember her laugh.
The heavy meds won’t let me cry.
So, I pretend she had a mouth of lilacs
spurting out sweet smell laughter.
Grief lays between us.
follow the white rabbit.
feed your head!
what did the dormouse
i don’t remember.
sick sisters, sleep breathing,
pictures of things with m’s.
stop growing at such a ridiculous rate.
progress without conscience wins again.
i see me in the looking glass.
the same and opposite.
streaked and full and plain,
my alice face tells me a secret.
“she is in the well.”
she is dead.
her spirit treads treacle.