Panic sets in.
I don’t want to sit next to you, your memory.
I knew a guy who quit smoking and took up yoga to have something to do at parties.
I quit yoga and am thinking about taking up smoking.
I’m not joking.
They say I should forgive myself for mistakes made and things unsaid.
But you’re still dead.
I’m afraid to be still because I’m afraid I’m still losing it about losing you.
I don’t know what to do.
I see fall afternoon sun peaking through leaves,
God! Glorious blazing red and yellow!
I imagine you speaking.