you just died there

on the pine wood floor

standing

between the doorway beams of light and golden paint

engraved with oak leaves and a lighted caption

that read something once

your name maybe

or your Dad's

did you wear a dress or a collared shirt

did a tie make a pendulum swing from thigh to thigh

caught in the gust of a rhythmic left right walk

or did you talk

and talk about the mundane

the nothing

fingers through belt loops

not knowing what to do with your hands

flipped mountain peaks

Kilimanjaro's a spinning top drilling

quaking with depth

digging the mass grave

between the golden rectangle

where you stood

stand

where you left me