On the Topic

We were talking around the subject,

but this way or that, there were words.

They stood like pillars, monuments of ink.

The sky turned. Pale blue to a strange scarlet.

I wanted to say.

That’s the value of a breath. I imagined you

with a defibrillator. I imagined you. Even the last

days hold poetry.

Especially them, who are we kidding.

Loss is what loss does. I have been carved. I thought

I could become blood for you. Some flesh. Some framework

with Headings and subheadings and context and code. Sometimes

it’s the palm.