I loved the
red dirt
road that
lead to your
tiny
faded
house
from months of
summer sun
and the curtains in
the window
that your sweet
son gave to
you.

And the pebbles that I
kicked as I held
baby's hand
in mine
because she'd
run off to
pick a flower
pick a dozen
flowers for you,

I loved you in all
of your weakness.
In all of your wasted
hours
your wasted
dreams
your wasted demons
and your fears

I loved you in all
of everything.
You were all of everything.
Poetry for eyes.