I heard you
the click, and twitch of you
under my skin,
the shifting, my bones as usual, mama, still; my pelvis
the canal, deep and dirty
I saw you, the horror, your slackened stiffened slanted jaw
that bone slide, morbid
cha
cha
cha
that hole, your absence
like a flash card, like a salsa
look here, look here
look, missy.
that pill half-dissolved on the tip of your tongue
I
mistook for a tooth
that pill I hoped would make you feel better, on the phone, I worried and fretted and dismissed doom and said, give her that pill.
there it was, a useless; touched in your saliva, sand-ish.
I flew to you, I flew to you, I flew to you, I flew to you,
in the dark
there it was, your pill, yellow and grey and wet under death, did you know? Were you dead already?
I thought it was your tooth, by way of death, I thought your tooth fell out, and set there on your tongue,
and wept, and wailed,
and fell there, too. Late; mistaken, thinking there was a loosened tooth on the tip of your tongue,
mocking me.
I heard you
and smelled you
just there, where my nostrils closed over your air
still
hungering solely for you.
