Um

October 4, 2017

I clutch tightly

your urned cremains.

If I put them down

you might disappear.

I put them in triple layered plastic bags

while I shower.

Strap them into the car seat

ever so snugly,

carry them into the store,

in that very large beach bag

that now serves as my purse,

when I can make myself buy food to eat.

At night, with you beside me

I dream of our life together,

careful not to knock you off the bed

to be scattered.

That I could not bear.

I recall the reasons I’ve loved you;

the magnitude of your heart

for all things living,

your capacity to forgive

both my naive foolishness and my purposeful obstinacy,

your feverish defense of truth and justice.

There is much to cherish.

And while the way I am acting may seem strange,

there is a method to my madness.

If I hold this reliquary

close enough to me,

perhaps you will reappear.

 

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