After Life / New Poem (Rough First Draft)
Have you ever been so beautiful?
Hair pale as moonshine, skin
ornamented with luminous blue rivers.
You haven’t got used to being alone yet.
I follow you to the cafe, listen to you pause
when they ask for your order.
You get your tea eventually, sit
by the window where we used to
sketch in the fog of condensation.
When you cry, your eyes shine like
new marbles and I want to kiss your lips.
I wonder if you still taste of warm caramel.
Those who say ghosts can’t feel
are wrong. This pain is like
a mountain still growing.
I’m angry we didn’t conquer
the world on time.
I’m angry your brother
still has his TV too loud.
I remember our last argument,
how you wrote I’m sorry 26 times
in one text message.
The fall you had yesterday carved chunks
out of your knuckles. Later, you’ll make
guacamole and forget your injuries.
Lemon juice will make trails down your fingers.
You’ll bite your tongue. The pain
will set you off, and I won’t be there
to catch you when you throw yourself
face down on our crumpled bed.