The body forgotten, an animal reversing
seamless & easy
as a glove.
In the first days, everything beckons
you.
The plastic jangle of a stranger’s phone,
leaves churning red, a blue checkered shirt.
Then even these refractions hide well,
suspend their lips
over atrophy,
a season of held breaths.
I start seeing your shadow in the rustle
of clean linens, a hawk wheeling
over our curtain of woods.
I bind the blinds & forgo all sound
save the echo of your face.
Where was that fold, that
loathed freckle?
The sun loved your every last
fractal.
Did you know? The tops & tips of maple leaves
are the first to wear their blood.
The ones smoked by the light
sate it, freely,
with ease.
Death is a colorful feast, they sing.
Before the cold comes in, let us
eat.