Alone Again

I went for a walk.
(I struck out “with you”)
You walked ahead,
In silence.
A stranger maintaining social distancing.
I walked behind you.

The silence lasted
The entire walk.
20 minutes.
It felt like each time
You left me alone –
Outside dressing rooms,
In parties,
In your family.

It exacerbated
All recent loss
All of my grief.

But I counted on you
For relief.

Instead,
You took me into the past.
And reminded me
Of who you were,
Who I was,
Before I became.

Now,
Again,
I forget my name.

I wonder if this is how
Love makes all pain last,
As this walk took me farther from my future,
Into an apathetic past.

I remember, I must

I remember the gold hair in your beard,
As the loss descends, much as I feared.
The eyes grandmother warned me to avoid
Have bored, into my heart, an endless void.

I remember how hair curled on your neck,
How, when you fought, a tiny spittle-speck,
Frothed, and formed strings, between your soft lips –
The void shifts. Tears threaten. My breath dips.

I haven’t eaten a mango this season –
Will strawberries hold you back for treason?
I would look for you when you’d gone too far,
How I would instruct you to drive the car,
I pick up the phone to wish you good night –
But you’ve kept your silence and killed this right.

I remember your leg‘s weight when we slept,
I remember the promises we kept.
I remember your warm hand holding mine,
Through each movie, every single time.

I remember you wiping my tears dry
And I wonder how you have let me cry…

The kids miss you. (Remember my daughter?)
They have passed for you, like dirty water.

I’m mad at you. I’m pining. I am lost.
If I’ve hurt you, is this truly the cost?
Because I loved the way you felt and thought,
I‘ll always remember, but you forgot.

Though, through this caravan of memory,
I‘ve seen us through paths you will never see,
You’ve forsaken me in a place I know,
Love will hold fast; but I must let you go.

Your Calling

He meant nothing to me –

Except he was your father

Who turned you away

For being gay.

You did all you could

And I know you would;

Because that’s who you are.

Suffering teaches you

The value of death.

Seeing you do,

What needs to be done,

Breaking a pot,

Taking turns around the fire,

Lifting the water

And the clarified butter,

Like the body of your father,

Like I had done a few years ago,

Made me weep.

Abscesses linger

Of abandonment.

Wounds that have cut too deep

Don’t allow the momentum

Of life to fall back into joy.

You will leave by morning,

For duty, a calling

And a new suffering,

Time has chosen to employ.