A Man’s Conversation with Regret, an Old Friend

I watched you kneel on the grave, a funeral

for two. The grey slacks you’ve had for years

are covered in mud-

a mixture of the dirt which covers her

and your crocodile tears. I think

you saw my observance, so you brushed

the sleeplessness from your eyes and stood.

And through a brief moment of unplanned

eye-contact by unexpected company, I told you

this:

 

“She was the Earth and you had no business

walking it.

Her affection calmed storms,

her kiss a glimpse of the heaven you’ll

never set foot in (as if you believed in ‘stupid shit’ like that).

I guess what I’m trying to say is

she loved you; she loved your demons

even when they played with matches,

burning her accidentally, slowly, like flames

licking trees in a wildfire.

You knew she had a kerosene heart.”

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