bridgeinvisibility | a collection of siblingsounds | a poem in solitude

I’ve walked around

and recognised you in tens of faces

yours was still missing


I looked at your face

before it disappeared

it would always stay the same


I am freeing myself

you thought

and you did

and I am engulfed


I collect memories that start to fade

I hold on

I parade them and push a carousel that stands still


are you still in that hole

yes, that hole is me

that hole is loss

that hole is unthinkable

and now

a part of my body


you are judging people incessantly

without ever realising what you are actually looking at


we are children still

in my eyes

and we didn’t see anything coming

we are standing there in the garden

singing and dancing to ourselves

and nothing ever happened

and your beautiful face

sought out its end


I never thought that I would ever see your ashes

there was something unknowable within you after all

I couldn’t catch you, you wouldn’t have let me

you let go

I would never have believed that

you familiarised yourself with your own death in peace

and now it stands in our midst

“Lovers in a Wood” by John Atkinson Grimshaw (1836–1893)

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