Cantus

Sometimes I walk miles and miles across the field
Just to check if
You are still breathing
I gently touch your back and think
Look, it’s winter!
We have the town all to ourselves
Your hair grows and grows over the frozen river
As you sleep
My hands collect golden tears
To bake the silent fresh bread
Of my last supper.

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Persistent Ink (I)

I did not know
how much you wrapped yourself

around my heart until today when

sitting in the park I accidentally caught

you eating bread. You took each bite

eyes closed and gently stroked the crust
like you’d do on Sunday at church.

 

You did not smile, it was

the sun which briefly smiled at you.

I had been there in the cold for quite a while
but did not move or blink nor even breathe,
just waited.

 

You packed the crumbs away

and quickly vanished.
And then I sobbed.

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