#8

After Nujabes

You flowerI held you in this vase of house-finch eggs

I started to build around you splinter, blood, silence, wasn’t enough

You rainbow mausoleum now, down with sledge

hammer the marble that was set, pools of

rain water record the work of dismantling

memories I’ve only began breaking surface;

you phoned and it was all

too raw; You river my eternal

reflective, the prism of a stream slow

sap echoing through space