The Dying Body Chronicles 24: Furnishings now empty of warmth

How do you write your name
in the language of grief?

Do you put each letter
between silent hyphens?

Do you count the vowels
for wailing & gnashing of teeth?

How do you put the bones
of your palms into prayer?

& the naked absence of sound,
how do you explain it to your god?

Do you even sleep?
& when you are wide awake,

do you dream of how hollow
your room sounds without those

furnishings of warm bodies?
Do you remember which letter

starts your monologue
to your blurred face

under the shower?
Do you hear your body scream?

How do you visit that emptiness?
Do you drive or do you walk down

that gulf? & what did you find
at the ravine of your chest?

Do you remember the language
of amnesia? Can you forget

how a body curls into itself
before their gods?


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