Sunday afternoon.
Bus stop by the river. Two
Teenagers in love
Practice hugging between hugs.

Laughter.
Skin.
Red cheeks.
Frost breath kisses.

Wonderful to see the
World trying to
Be a world
Again.

he filled my bones with
    moonlight and cicada songs,
his kisses tasted of
    slow lazy days
and even when i felt the seasons
    change,
i couldn't let him go

The people lined the street,
But the face I longed to see
Was absent.
The voices filled the church
But the voice I ached to hear
Was gone.

The coffin lid closed,
The dirt fell,
The people cried,
The truck horns blared
And the choir sang.
But none so deafening
As the silence
Of the empty seat
At a broken table.