Alessandra G.

It’s always slow-going when you decide to pull the heavy book
from mama’s shelf
to find those pictures from when you were young.

You settle down, and feel the saturated CVS paper and

You stare because its funny,

Filtered through a window
Teeter-tottering in your evolution
You lay your last breath on a carpet. 

Azure oil spilled blue, your remains a lasting melody.
You had been seen from my wept eyes and as the minutes passed

A steady hand,
And moving mind.
Give me time and I am sure to listen.
I yearn to move through my own force and your patience.

Don't cry, Tee Bear, or you'll run
out of tears.

With phone calls and phone calls and not knowing
Faces toward springing terror each time the automated chord rises.
And a family being tugged on at all angles.

I didn't get there at 4.
But to be away from here,
4:16 PM
and I wasn't here. Not by the mirror I eyed
myself in until I saw nothing.
I went to the beach, and this time all I brought was a book.