we opened yolkless 
in the glow of each rise.
light coming thick & lumbering.
we tired giving the sun
new names. "sweet brother"
& "furnance" & "fig tree."
hoped that might keep her going 
just another year.
imagined what one more 
skirt hem could bring us.
photographs to be singed
& turned to comet scarves.
watched our edges seep into
every furrow & forgetfulness.
i remembered i was supposed to
be worried about the house's bones
& i was supposed to check 
for the thousandth time
if the dead trees caught fire.
touching their torsoes.
little eyes peered
from every crease. in bed
our shadows turned indigo
then sapphire. gem-like
in the last days. i thought only 
of spoons & mixing. 
how my mother used to 
work her hands in a belly
of dough. everything begins 
like this. everything 
end like this. with omens
catching each other's ankles.
the mailbox grew a devil's tail.
your family stopped visiting.
were turned into crows
who now forage in the trash cans
behind our apartment. 
it feels like 
we could have had much more.
but then again we could 
have had less. scooping 
a sugary bit of light.
feeding you a spoonful,
i say, "let's take bets
on how many more mornings
are left."

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