I found you
in a book of pressed petals
& black widow receipts .
Then I was riding along the back path
"all the way to China"
and you were there,
hands grasping for each other
and cheers leaving joyful mouths.
When they found you,
your body was cold and limp
on a cement driveway.
Lips blue and cracked
and feet without shoes to warm them.
We were gone,
and our sun was shining,
but yours,
yours had gone out.
I don't remember if I cried
when two weeks later
I discovered your heart had stopped.
But I cried now,
even though it's too late
and 5 years have passed
since you did.
I cried now
and I no longer ride along the back path
"all the way to China."