my obsequy, mine 

/ˈɒbsɪkwɪz/ 

noun 

“Funeral rites; inhumation, entombment.” 

​

In another language, mourning means to 

carry fire in the mouth. 

​

August is the season of unsolved crimes, 

heat swelling under the door, 

futures pacing in the hall and 

refusing to knock. 

 

I collect your echoes and wander through, 

them like portraits stolen from the country of ghosts. 

Between then and now I invent an intermezzo— 

a stage direction that reads [enter absence]. 

My orchestra of cicadas, the TV buzz, 

your emptiness chalking the inside of my skull. 

This matryoshka doll, 

infinite layers 

      and wombs 

                          and maws. 

At night I lie awake rehearsing 

how I will greet the phantom of you 

when it shows up with a throat full of bees. 

      Hello. 

Would I recognize your mouth 

or only the noise it once made of me? 

I lick the envelope shut. Paper cuts 

remind me of your touch.