Awaited Kate. Bought TP
and rosé. I hadn’t been
by for a while—they were in
the midst of moving the pink
bottles from bottom shelf to
top. It’s summertime again.
I grabbed a Gabriella
and went to pay. He said I
looked nice, was I going to
a party? (Shiny purple
ruffles in memoriam.)
I said yes (I wasn’t) and
let him wrap it in tissue
paper and silver gift bag.
*
Just because I can’t see you
under cloud cover doesn’t
mean I don’t know you’re there. Not
under, beyond. She always
goes away but then always
comes back. I know how to love
the ones like that: weave a shroud.
*
I must come from some tough stock
I think while powdering my face
and noticing no grey hairs
or noticeable wrinkles
even after all this grief.
My eyes seem sadder but they’re
the ones doing the looking.
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