We fell and knew

            we wanted to.

Flowers left by the alter,

Dried and clenched,

Dusty brown, spotted black,

            Rustle and whisper,

Shamefully carried out.

Sounds of dirt clods,

Tears drying,

Footsteps hurrying to cars.

            The living separate,

Promise to return.

He was living a lie

            And so was I.

The heel of the undertaker

Makes no sound

Walking in soft shoes.

            When he leaves,

He never walks away loved.

I was a has-been holding on

            To a never-been.

Born in winter,

We braved the cold.

Taken home

            In tight, thick blankets,

Ours is the light most sought.

When it rises — we will rise —

Dying for tomorrow’s kiss.