Let play the chords we wrote upon
her death,
but no promises
they’ll chime well in your ears.
Hold dear
old promises.

Let rise the chant we began upon
rebirth,
but in honesty,
it no longer strikes a chord
with us
and our apologies.

Never ending haze
surrounds your grave.
Lead us here
to live in fear.

Now fly the nest as summer dies.
At last
an excuse to feel alive,
or to inhale until you pass out.
Create
the worlds you dream about.

Sit up until it gets light
enough
to see your own breath in
the reflection in her eyes.
Confirm
the last year’s existence

Never ending haze
surrounds your grave.
Lead us here
to live in fear.

Watch the last seconds
of a cold goodbye
from the top of the head
to the base of your spine.
There’ll be a chill, will descend
to the tips of your toes,
will unbalance the edge
and leave you stranded alone.