When he was dead I went to the river singing.
O wind over the transparent
surface, how can I act
with my hands
broken? Sand
I kneel in, glimmering. I lose
my body each day
for an asteroid. The planets
flicker; they are not
in a pretty row. Nothing to say
of hair turned straw, eyes
plugged with dirt and staring.
Be still, I can no longer
hold you. (The one
I loved in my arms, my lips
on his crusted lips.) The scar
running the length
of his chest. And here
in the sand, his eyes
again. My life
has been but a moment
of requiring. I crush and love
in one small gesture. Nothing escapes
my vision. I lay down
and imagine my cave. Color
has no purpose in a world of dim.