I see my reflection in the window,
close my eyes,
feel a pain as grey as daybreak fog
in my chest.
I remember another day to face.
another day he isn’t here.
to convince me of my reflection,
through the shiny glare of his eyes
I could always better witness
the softness of my skin,
or the draping of my hair
that spans to my decollate.
I put myself on him everyday.
begged him to carry me
gave up on the possibility of discovery;
traded in binoculars for his bones
saw pathways of self in his embrace
being his religion
made her believe in herself.
now that he is gone
she must peel back the layers of skin she refused to shed,
now that he is gone
she doesn’t know heaven,
cannot fathom the God in her smile
the deity in her hips
she sings black hymns rejecting her own skin
as if she wasn’t real
before his worship.
a slash of sunlight soars above her crown
the illumination urges her to see the life beneath his absence.
she catches her breathe
closes her eyes
her reflection in the window is loud—wailing
as if she has just come to life
