I don't believe
In your power or lack thereof.
We are all strong
In a broken winged kind of way.
Obituaries
And flowers are your last award.

The day I'm buried
Will be my best dressed occasion.
Impressions
On my couch next to burn holes
Remind me
Of the desert we deserted.

Now we
Make wastelands of the beach.
Call my name
Into the new sea, dry as deep space,
Abiding to
My word, I sleep within reach.