Nothing left, no more choices to be made,
    now that you are gone, both of you are gone
    humoring last requests – your liaison
tasting words left, emotional grenades.  

The evening before I came to your aid,
    that glittering night before crimson dawns
    timid soul quavered as newly raised fawns
moving in perfect steps like the parade.  

But why did you lean across the table?
    Like feral cats homesteading under pine
        expecting I was more, you always had
    biting center filling – now both sides mine      
        words of worship left on thin mulberry
staling plated cookies – we’re all damnable.