Effy

Don't choke on the poison you're swilling

Show me the invisible hole that you're filling

Don't choke on the poison you're swilling

And just remember

Some days in late August at home are like this, the air thin and eager like this, with something in it sad and nostalgic and familiar.

On the train we swapped seats, you wanted the window and I wanted to look at you.

I hardly exist, and if I do, it's with delicate care.

The sweeping arm of morning lost in the quiet. I build a home with you out of breath & body, a cathedral of growth planted where the river divides. [someone will remember us, I say, even in another time]. The soft parting of your hair across your neck, the saffron robe draped over your shoulders. If not this, caught in memory, then what shall remain of us?