your last act

traumatised my body

and I’ll take it

it was, after all,

the last sign of your life

*

and I

went back

to work

as if you

hadn’t died

*

your

death

contains too

too

too

much

life

*

every

single time

I project

your face

onto a young

man’s face

you are dying again

you are dying again

and I am imprisoned by grief

*

I stare because I see you

and they ask themselves what the hell is wrong with me.

Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy on Pexels.com

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