it's winter time now.

your grandmother's quilt
is gone now -
it has been for some time.
you got rid of it, remember?
after the second -
no, third? or was it even the first -
time you tried to -
well. you know.

after i held your body together with my own,
waiting for a miracle or at the least the **** ambulance -
remember how they drove past your driveway twice?
     i wanted to run out and flag them down
     but could not move
     fearful that in my absence,
     you would leave.
- as dawn broke through the blinds,
painting lines of light across your
red red red red red red
arms.