I buried my brother. And now,
the color of the sky has faded and with it
Time has donned a mystical velvet robe. He
wings me about the room like a mad scientist
whose hands are tied with potions and promises;
we were supposed to be
in a future I created full of greenery
and gold light. We were to be tomorrows and
tomorrows long from now.
His wand swirls round, stirring stars to wake. Another
day is over, and so ends this illusion.
I bury my head in my hands
and cry into soft fabric folds of his gentle gown.
wearing a dress of the dead, lipstick just a shade deeper than yesterday’s wear, my hair is longer, eyes lined blue, mind sharp, i have never felt such cathexis for a polyester blend, it is she in my memory choosing this white clutch, she reminding
me of such joy in life with each swish of the bell of such brightly flowered dress, she decorating all of me and preening like a grave site of daisies in fresh morning spring.