requiem

the first time that I thought you had died,

the night had come black velvet heavy

in the absence of the moon. even

the stars struggled to sustain their light.

it was late autumn. the air was cold

in a thick sort of way that seemed to

permeate the skin and settle in

to bone. seeping dread began to gnaw

the lining of my stomach. somehow,

I sensed disruption. the call confirmed

this; the story spun dizzily forward.

the fog on my window was the only sign

I was still breathing. I looked to the stars

for a sign. they held their breath with me.