Bones

I gathered you up,

a little pile of bones,

to whisper some things

that have sharp-edged me

into the thing I was never

ever before.

I sought to talk to you

until talking was a thing

that hurt my throat.

And never before

have I spoken

to a ghost

but the ghost

of you is all

I have.

And then God,

took my chin,

and touched my heart,

and “look up” was the thing

I did.

And never ever

Before did I seek

to be sought,

but then He saw me,

He saw the once was

of you,

And thought to do

the thing He always does.

He held me

while I

cried.