i regret not
telling you

(how i felt)

because in
all   of  my
daydreams
you     said
everything
i wanted to
          hear.

He only says my name when he's crying
He wants to touch my skin
I can't imagine sleeping in a room he's not in.

It feels so natural to keep him near.
I don't give a **** what doctors think I should hear.

He fits perfectly next to me.
Close like he's supposed to be.
My heart on the outside.

The elements have merged into solicitude,
Spasms of violets rise above the mud
And ****, and soon the birds and ancients
Will be starting to arrive, bereaving points
South. But never mind. It is not painful to discuss
His death. I have been primed for this --
For separation -- for so long. But still his face assaults
Me; I can hear that car careen again, the crowd coagulate on
  asphalt
In my sleep. And watching him, I feel my legs like snow
That let him finally let him go
As he lies draining there. And see
How even he did not get to keep that lovely body.