If you won’t eat anymore
how will I show you love?
If you won’t speak
how could I fathom?
If you weren’t here anymore
how will I substantiate
loving you?
No, it’s never the same cliche
The living do not worry about going on
The left behind have no use-ful/for
thoughts of what if
The loss is simply that
you would not be loved
as you had been
if you weren’t here anymore.
This, in particular,
is what of (the) living,
which feels challenging and significant.
“…who wore for the first time, in her casket, a set of new clothes.”
Even though I did not birth you
I have held you
and, I’ll always hope,
at times carried you
Even though
some may say
Even though
it’s complicated
Even th(r)ough, so very many things,
We could not grasp
Nor understand
I first met you
Before you had a name
Before anyone could see your face
A mere prologue
of a life
I first knew you
As a heartbeat
That lived
just beneath
another one
I once knew
that was born also
of the one my own
had lived
just beneath