8.4.17

Fitting–

the day draws closer

when I’ll stand above

your grave, and I have

little to say.

When you left an emptyness

replaced you, and I’m marching through it,

straggling like a man pulped by a semi,

still limping down the highway

for assistance.

Let’s skip the words

and sentimentalities.

In short,

I miss you dearly.

Written at 10:52 at night, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA.