Loss

i. mother
Your mother misses you
Sweet, cattle-fed skykisser
Strong was the quietus
Sharp, suffer-filled sentience
Viscous, injured quanta
Melt me in cruel spring
Soothing cool, coffin sloth
How you rust and rot
Our momentos are
Glorious daggers dipped in grievous ecstasy
I am afraid
To smile without you
I am ashamed
To laugh with your wraith
Surely, this must be a lie
I remind the same heavenly phases
Happy holiday tapes
I cannot erase
I wish I could be more present for your sister
But I am too consumed
Relishing what is no more

ii. lover
When you left it was death
I could have been an excellent mother to your children
I would have shown them love too vast to be fathomed
But you cut your heart out for work
And crafted a crude Kevlar
And though it shielded you from panic
It leached your exuberance
Hollow-hearted is not synonymous with resolve
Where is the boy of triumphant laughter
Sure, you wear his flannel collars
Sure, you wear his pleasant face
But you don't wear
His character on your person
And I know I can be hyperbolic
I know I can twist the truth
To yield a quasi-Homeric narrative
But with regards to our departure
I am innocent of such exaggerations
O! How I year for those weekend mornings
With well-rested tiredness
We'd fall into our wholesome cove
Beneath silk sheets
Our bodies gliding with ease
Dancing on blue yarn quilts
Brief, fractured articulations
Would allow us to bask in communal absurdity
You were my world
And with a meager half-smile
You would provide me with
Impenetrable armor
And brilliant esteem
Until one morning
You vanished 
And in your place
A frigid anchorite
Rendering me
Untouched