It's not enough, said my simplicity,
that you loved her and today
she isn't gone at all but lives at a distance;
what reason to grieve?
It's not enough, replied my incredulous tears, that the pieces of
her little sounds once fit together into parted lips,
how her lashes brushed as she would close her eyes
against you, wrapping the bulbs within a darkness
as she bade you enter that impenetrable silence where
the light burned near behind a thinning shade of separation
that, bursting into a low flame, cast from two hearts at once
a single cry into the corners of the night?
Oh God, whispered
Oh God, breathed out
my wounded simplicity,
don't say that again.