grief stretches out before me
wide and golden like a continent of sand
mouth-muffled by its own enormity and heat

a million million unmet wants pant
with dried-out tongues

grief stretches out before me
soft and golden like a too-large cat
making a home out of my body

A greedy catechism of maybe tomorrow
tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow

until the very last tomorrow
when I bring him wilflowers from my garden and say
I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner
I didn’t know how to let you love me