When tragedy strikes we become sleuths. We reconstruct events to establish the belief that it should have been us, it could have been us, it was our fault or we caused their death somehow. The days pass into weeks, the weeks years until the memory fades and details dim.
stars melt in your skin
for R.M
quiet nights held inside your hands like water waitingfor the chance to become your ladder.
you first reminisced, as if...
After William Carlos Williams
So much
De
Pends
Uponthe dazed chickens
Fraughtwith meltwater
Besidesthe demonic and menacing
Icecream truck
Thatcirculates the neighborhood
Withan off-key kilter tune:
(Davidsings-“ dee bee dee bee dee bee boop...
