April, why did you leave
me lone to get older
turn another Year
Ten days later
when you couldn’t in
July, why don’t you
blow
the candles in
November, forced remembrance
throughout the Year

no talk all day long  
but i sing and won’t notice
that’s my way of life

quiet kissing in
quarry, diamonds less shiny
than your bright heart light

wrinkled moments come
with the morning drowsiness
your coffee eyes fresh

dear father i’m scared
you will turn grey by the time
i see you again

if i sing a dirge
during feticide, is it
mercy to ******

campfire player
who loses identity
without audience