flowers
on a countertop
bend away
the curtains
and fell
the rot
that has taken over
this place
illuminating
the colors
illuminating
the memories
illuminating
the bed sheet
indent
that has
swallowed
me

a rising
elevation
towards a lamp

clicking
of a light

it’s dead

how many days have passed?

I now realize
your ghost
your form
your resurrection

was only my neighbor coming in checking up on me

the flowers
the colors
the memories
wither
snowflakes
on a warm
sidewalk

I can not swallow death.