He left last night
not knowing (I like to think)
It was not his choice
it was decided for him I tell myself.
He stopped breathing
and the machine was taken from him.
It's not that he looked comfortable
or happy or proud
in fact the machinery with all its attachments
with all its needles
he was not happy
he struggled to breathe to move
in fact he couldnt move.
I lost him before then in the diagnosis
his eyes looking up
as if he made his way to heaven.
How I love the sentiments we invent
the creation of a heaven
waiting to welcome the ones we depend on for love.
No way around it
we don't want you to leave
even if it makes you comfortable.
You were never a sentimentalist
creating a heaven in your mind
where you could look down on all who loved you as I did.
It was not my choice to share you with others
but now you have moved
from being the warm arms
I fell into
the advice to comfort
the face to kiss
the knowledge
rules and connection
like light returning
every morning
the breakfast in bed
supper in the evening
and television shows
now I understand
how much you meant to everyone
you cared for
after supper
poem
love is not love which alteration finds
or bends with the remover to remove
oh no
it is an ever fixed mark
I Wear Your Sweaters
Old, stained, well worn bring comfort
when I’m inside
their out of style frumpish gape around my body
say my looks
don’t matter
but the way I wear you
covers my skin intervenes between me and the outside world
an undeniable belonging attachment to a common algorythm
as I shrink into
obscurity beyond economy radical attention knowing
I am loved by you
and wild birds who lend me their wings temporarily
moving across my window in sunlight.
I Wear Your Sweaters
Old, stained, well worn bring comfort
when I’m inside
their out of style frumpish gape around my body
say my looks
don’t matter
but the way I wear you
covers my skin intervenes between me and the outside world
an undeniable belonging attachment to a common algorythm
as I shrink into
obscurity beyond economy radical attention knowing
I am loved by you
and wild birds who lend me their wings temporarily
moving across my window in sunlight.
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