I run into you. I want to run into you.
Every time I see your name appear
I feel the heat in my stomach, the image
Of your face that I kissed, the depth, our
Mother’s sounds and her eyes staring at me,
The words she spoke to me that changed my life.
I hold your objects in my arms.
Every time I want to cry I tell
Myself that you’d want me to smile.
You look straight at me and I look back,
I try not to shudder, not to despair,
I try to conjure up the lightheartedness
That I envied you for, the sense of humour,
And I think of you as alive and radiant,
Your essence is here, everything that I cannot
Touch or see, but you, what really composed you.
I feel the need to write you.
People are laughing. People
Are working and living and eating
As if you hadn’t died, as if nothing
Happened and amidst them I stand
And mourn you behind a face mask,
And I reconnect with life, with routines,
With my hands doing things, with sounds
Outside of me, and with you, in your new
Form, you celestial treasure, I hold you so close.
Croque-Melpomene 