coughing.
unwilling to cover my
face, though i’m
breathing in someone.
it somehow seems disrespectful
to cover the
holes through which
i breathe, as the
smoke of the
dead surrounds
me.
i’ve been here.
when you were
breathing.
five years ago.
watching a fire
burn for the
first time,
we covered our
noses, our mouths,
not knowing what
to do.
instead of watching,
we found ourselves
retreating.
then two years
later, just me
here again, still
unable to feel,
yet seated,
unmoving for [...]

someone once wrote,
“”without our bodies we cannot love,” someone once wrote.”
bullshit, i thought,
as i prepared to
write about
the now body-less love
that fills my mind, and
keeps vivid the
memories of a
distant past.
though the body
is gone,
i can feel it,
that love that two
someones implied
i cannot.