“Please, don’t ever stop writing,

Allow always the twins of

Joy and Pain to ravage you…”

The pain I’ve been trying to write

Out of my system, however

Is one for which language has birthed

Not words, but images

Personal and of the utmost beauty

These marked the path to a grave

A certain part of me has begun settle into.

Dying and living are regarded as two different things

Yet it’s only perspective that changes stages

Living in full colour then was life, magnificent

Losing it, now, without words for the way

In which this (inadequately put:) hurts

This is a death of the part of me

I loved best.

Thoughts incomplete

I grapple for words

For sleep

For rest that caps me before the finale

The best was not saved for last