Andrews loss

Andrews loss. Photograph

a griddle of desire

turned slowly, framed

by the heat and turning

slowly into history

so that,

loss becomes a pyre

a disentangled thing

unwoven, unspeakable

in pain

the holder always reaching in

with fingers that implore

for more of that sameness

the comfort that escaped

and in the brittle moments

when dawn dampens the fire

it is darkness not light

that descends

to scratch at and bother

the future,

a place so desolate

that only pain will do.

And so it came to pass

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