Sepia

 A

i am already missing these moments already

mourning the arrival of the future broken glass

birds sharp little edges to grip with care

with ease of motion their song bleeds out from

the point of impact majesty in eighth notes and

jilted harmonics my grief in shorthand copied 

onto the pad near the old rotary phone sad stop r

called for lw @ 4 re: old news

grief in the well long gone and dried up

i will fill my cup with the dirt left behind

guzzle what remains choke on this vintage grit

it was a great year that year

the tears start falling now still 

my throat and lungs scream for relief

another swig of the dirt another reminder

the memories will just keep on coming so will

the wracking coughs the fine particulate coating 

my convulsing stomach

i am frothing at the mouth wild eyed beast

the laughter has joined the party

i have never felt more connected to what i’ve lost

i have never known it until now