Tell me who else could have told this story?
I want to go back to last week when we didn’t know how a heart is capable of breaking over and over again. Images
reversed and replayed in slow motion
He was here. Then he is not.
They were children. Then they are no longer. The world was intact. Then
the sky tumbles down, crushing the earth. Pulling us under its weight.
There was sun and then it is no more.
He was here and now he is gone.
Flew away into the atmosphere, little
lone bird that he is.