she looks forward to being
present someday
to no longer hear those careful
clocks
chime through her empty
but not now
for I am not here yet
though yesterday
I was
not today
not here in this moment
in this cold hour
nor in this cut
placed first to set him
free
that we might end apart
more simply than this;
then cast as open cradle
to gather her in hollowed space,
in self
as warmth to feather
to await a next day come
as hawk to hand







Love it.
9 old applause
