Tonight, I won't be dreaming of you

Mama smells familiar when she kisses my cheeks, 

crying about her wedding day

I would have been crying too, but now

my womb sits unevenly at the bottom of my toppling body:

my stomach shrinks with the months &

The evening begets you as you fall in teardrops 

on my dirty kitchen floors

every stain marks the end of your existence, somehow

I sing as I try washing you out; the acid of the cleaning 

chemicals burns through my fingers

till they are no longer as nimble as you remember 

In the shower I scrub my hands clean

of your skin;

there was a time when my fingers pressed into the

folds of your face

now they foam like lathered milk,

I am clean in the nighttime: I do it

when Papa snores & Mama faintly cries 

because she hasn't forgotten the burial of her grandmother

she sees her face as often as I see yours 

I also cry

just as the moon flushes out of the clouds

like a heartburn & settles in the fecund 

night

it taunts my barren-ness, but i coalesce into

the dancing twigs that draw shadows in my window

their unevenness reminds me of your teeth

We are all crooked anyways

with crooked bones and slanted fingers

your body always tilted as you slept, an unmoving 

little thing 

but how could a boy so loving be so afraid of living

that one day you just didn't wake up at all?