It almost seems as if you were forever ago, a hazy ray of sunshine warming my fingers as I let them move around in the open air. You were the socks on my baby feet, my windfall and my rainfall, my horizontal access into the vertical dimension of support.
I don’t understand how so much life could get extinguished. Surely you linger on, a whisper in the sand, a smile in the clouds, a drifting smell in the water. Instead, I find traces of you in my blood, in the engraved similarity of our hands, in the eyes I line with the soot of grief.
I climb the ribcage of despair into my drowning heart of disbelief and find you nestled there, the last look of your ashen face burnt into the recesses of my lungs.
Where did you go?
Why did you go?
Death has never been so welcoming of the unwelcome. The ghost of your footsteps move along with mine, the shadow of your laughter echoes in mine. The relentless resilience your body ached with will flow through my fingertips as I try to hold the world, just as you tried.