recessional


“thank all the gods you’re back,” i say to you

and you tilt your head, and there’s fire here

it wants to touch you too


“thank all the gods you’re back,” i say with no cadence

and i don’t even know if you can hear me

you are silent and your eyes are gone

and our fingertips are touching


something is burning and i think it might be us

you lost your skin

and i’m not wearing mine anymore

we can’t talk, but our fingers can

“thank all the gods you’re back,” i whisper to you


you’re back

but you aren’t here


and here i am

i am here

thanking all the gods

in case they can hear me

in case they are listening

in case

they

deserve it

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