I take a step
on hollow ground, and wonder
who lies beneath my feet.

My skin is damp, heavy with
the morning cold that makes me shiver,
makes me sigh,

Soft in deafening silence, grass cool
and soft as angels wings beneath my
feet, bare in the pre-dawn light.

The skies grey with promise, awakening,
ready for the sun’s first light to graze
tips of the trees’ branches,

Arms, that border solemnly, guarding
these faded stones, empty faces, waiting
for the fallen angels,

Like you. With no right to be here, no
reason to sleep, to leave me with the
promise of hello, instead of goodbye.

Folded paper crumples in my sweating
palm, beneath which words for your
eyes wait, unspoken. My eyes burn,

Acid, hot, tears sting my cheeks and fall
to kiss your lips, and eyes focus on
a name that doesn’t belong.

Your name. I speak, the silence
robs me of my voice. I see
your face in my mind.


Too much, too soft, like the
others who rest beside you,
companions in a place I cannot

Go. Now I am forgetting to
remember your voice. I bend,
place the letter on your eyes.

The line of my brow is
clammy, dewed with sweat.
and my hands tremble. I smile,

Gripping the hem of my dress.
the white dress, you know,
you’re favorite. Mine too.

Another breeze rushes past, a warning.
my feet move backwards, and
I’m walking away

With slowing steps. A heavy heart,
an empty head. The sun is hidden,
everything is still so dark. A chill

Creeps up my spine, prickling skin
stretched too tight over my bones,
pale white, mirroring

Your name, your name on
white granite. The one
name that doesn’t belong.