Sunday, January 6, 2013

Kin of Cloud

She will not have seen my body burned
Fire trusted onto every inch of melting skin
How my Fingertips slipped like salty sweat to the floor
Parts of me continuing to burst
The heat of blood expanding through newly shrunk and smoked body
Shriveled and condensed over again
She will not see me watching
Only imagine
Someone sky like
Kin of cloud
Gazing down at her hands clasped

I will watch her hardened woman
Pew like
altar of a body
Overlying her self in water falling through

She will not see me watching
Admire the way her body conforms to mourning
As if in specialty
How I will worry it will remember this contortion in muscle
Maybe she might find herself alone in what was once our bed
Erect and statue like again
giving her water to the gods in offering
eyes not knowing how to shut
Afraid of the fire my body found behind the darkness

she will not see me watching
from behind my own eyes
Photographed and still
how even beyond the skin and bones left
and casketed
there is a contorting game I will play
to fit myself
into every photograph that remains
to watch her
to pray in whatever light that may remain

how my body will be folded and harden too
I will have no water left to offer
But try
For her
To leave some sort of physical sign that I haven’t quite left
That she should not remove the trinkets and parts of my memory that have found a miracle way to stay
I try to tell her that I am here
By using my photograph stare
try dive into her body
And allow her hands to open
Eyes to close
Try to show her there are many ways to mourn
Not all ending in the drain
Of all that you are left

After everyone else who had loved me is gone
She will stay
Continue the pouring out
And I will dream of a way
To shatter this photograph
And join her
My arms stretched around her body
Spine erect
Alter like
Stiff as a pew
But as soft as our morning prayers
I will imagine my body
Returning everything shes offered
Wrapped around her skin
Protecting her
From the fire

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