it lingers heavy in the air
the melancholy thickness
wrapped around
grey and green
that attaches itself to
these reminders
these markers of time.
.
on the outskirts
around the perimeter
and onto the threads
of your old blue sweater
i cling
.
i breathe
and remember
.
but
with my hand moving dirt
into little piles
adjacent to
you
.
i bury it
in this
shallow void
.
the things too hard to feel
but are felt anyway.
the face that is too hard to see
but is seared into my mind’s
eye
.
i look up
through the
cold and empty blur
and wonder
how it is
that i feel
you hold the world,
but not
me.
