The Memory of You
Recent past eclipses healthy memories,
those days when your smile and skin glowed happy,
what do we remember from before?
all of us were young and unaware of a soon and threatening after,
of a life later,
when the living room is empty of you,
when sad, silent objects sit in your void.
Tears come, a slow tide of grief in the dark,
or in a swell surrounded by a sea of strangers,
an angry rock of grief grows in my throat as I flee
to bathroom, closet, closed door.
I drive apologetic and repentant all the way to work each morning,
all the way home at night, mascara running along the road with me.
And when I think that faith has failed me,
"Take a deep breath," you say.
The sun glows bright against glistening pavement,
a sparrow flies fast and free above me,
"Until I see you again,"
"Beatific, wholly holy, alive and well."
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