I saw her the night before,
holding back tears, pretending,
everything was going to be,
fine.
She told me she had something for me,
in the trunk of her car, and I,
never looked.
I told her I loved her
and barely made it out the door.
Next morning, sitting in grass, they told me,
and I thought, I'd never known someone to die.
And when we all came together to remember,
praising the name Gloria,
my aunt read a poem, and the church,
overflowed with people,
wearing matching
t-shirts.
And when it was all over,
the pastor shook my hand and said,
I looked
sharp.