Hassun

Hassun

tonight i read about death
and all its parts
yanking away at each other
while unfinished yawns
from unsuspecting voice boxes
peaceably moan.

i did not mourn your passing
as flowers leave gardens, no —
no, i held you,
even as fates did protest;

when you left,
i bathed in your scent.

— A. P.

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