Louise
We know she was born that
blissful July, perhaps sooner. But we never settled
on a time of death, so the tombstone
sits on my nightstand for now
I water daffodils with
black coffee—I want to plant them
next to her grave, where I'll
never visit. It's the least I can do since I
can't visit her, as you'll be there
to caress my cheeks when I weep
and her heart will resume beating—No, I made
a solemn vow to honor her peace, so
You can say your goodbyes before her
last exhale, hold her hands if you will
I'll be there for the send off
and chisel our love into the marble
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