Poetry: Hay Fever
through the kitchen
out the back door
to sneak outside.
she’d be scared if she saw but
you see me sneeze
through the window pane...
while you watch your reflection decay
unsure if you saw me, i wave
a rotting hand moves back in pain
back inside we share a smile
it might be the last one for a while
we have to face the fact that
you’ll die soon; the best part of you…
is what betrayed you.
on the drive back home
my tears flood the street; you’re just bones.
remembering how you’d hold me when i was small
isn’t grief the biggest sign of love of all?