Neal

i know i am
impossible.

i know you saw it,
too.

thank you
for not reaching out
your hand.

you were right,
you were

right.

lately
i have found myself
thinking much
too much
about dark
and subterranean things:
bones and roots
and the lightlessness
down there,
silent and
tireless and
holding on,
forever
holding on.

i wake alone in the morning
to darkness
and rain

the coffee brews
in the other room
as i stare into a mirror
at a man no longer young,
hardly handsome,
but with a smile
worn well

it could have been easier
he says
at last

i know
i reply
but still…

it meant so much to me that
it meant so much to you

there isn’t a bone or muscle
inside your body
that isn’t supposed to be there

extrapolated outwards:
all that exists
is proper and
necessary

let it be,
just let it be