I saw your eyes from the hospital sheets, bewildered.
You were scraping the last chunks of chicken out of
the tray like a fly-speckled grasshopper.
Questions sunk into my face, scarred by
every change wedged in your wrinkled heart,
No one knew the melody you hummed
those countless days, wheezing, dragging,
drenched by your scripted skin. Languid rhythms
were yelling through my stomach, binding my body,
jagged letters sizzling in my misplaced mouth,
as I knew the bullets were close to your skin.
There was nothing left for me to do, you were
slipping out of my hands, creeping branches
covered in jellied sand. The purplish figure that stared
at me one last time was ragged, blown skin
backspaced, deleted.