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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