date of the date

we tell the words of the dead

who in our breath

expire meanings that no longer matter

but do to you

who tries to remember memories before remembering

but find nothing except for the thanks

that is shared after a burning in a neighborhood

where you say

well at least i survived

but did you

did i

did they

melting forever

against your warmth

*

kurt vonnegut said

life is no way to treat an animal

but death isn’t much better

because he hasn’t quipped about

how to cure the retreat

yet

*

she would eat me alive

but never share the feed

calling me honey

making me another bee

drooping love

for a queen