Last week,
I heard you dancing to the waves in the wind.
I saw you singing of Greek resurrection, I felt you
thinking,
of how your wings would guide you around the world.

This week,
They whipped around your face and fought for entry into your eyes, Greece rapidly tried to retrieve the pieces of its shattered heart, and you
did fly around the world.
Twice.

Yesterday,
The wind could not cushion your fall,
your songs cried out to nothingness,
your thoughts settled on a simple,
Adieu.

Tomorrow,
I will dance to the edge in your place and the wind will remember me.
I will sing a platitude to Greece, slap him awake, hand him coffee, and tell him, “get over it.”
And like a thousand black doves, I will fly through the universe and corners of myself,
without you
because you flew without me, and I’ll go not once,
Not twice,
but three times.

But today,
Today I will sit, not with the wind, but with nothing, I will sing to no one and nothing,
and I will think about nothing,
but
you.

And today?
Today I ripped up a memory of you and
it.
felt.
wonderful.