Once I held you
when there were no more words
only the spindly length of skin and bone, landscape
of defeated shoulders, limbs still
as an unplucked string, my own pressed
where I could imagine heat, seal some memory
of how we moved, unmoored, no longer
wanting, scarring, open palm
to empty fist, your low-hum
breath, my wincing sigh slivering
the winged darkness, vaulted air —
I forgive you.
I love you.
And now, home is a changed
melody, trumpet mouth
on a disfigured dream.
Nothing to hold