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.
