to be read later

couldn’t stop the smoking

so i swallow the cigarette

couldn’t coo the crying

so i tether the tissues

couldn’t mend the ending

so i look as you leave

*

swallowing you alive

in gasps

that tell of a story of

something besides me spilling myself

at your feet

where i sift and slip

where i clog your toes

like a fungi that you will have

when you are 63

forgetting who you were

when you were 62

with more functioning

more funny

more fun then too

which was something that made sense to you daily

in front of a funeral’s mirror

saying nothing at all

before the bath overflows

with a life lost

next breath

you tell me to grow up

not cry

water is precious

water is life

a boat crashes

some place else

*

one day

you will read my words

and think

how i knew so much then

and how i forgot it all

for here i am now there

in it and more

writing what i lost

when i had one day

not yet written

with you