The Adirondack Review
Conversations Held Since Your Death

(Do you swear that you miss me, how much do you miss me?)

(You are gone, the dust in this room is your skin, I see it float in
the light.)

(Do you try to catch it on your tongue?)

(I wipe it off the windows; your skin piles up there.)

(I talk to you out loud when I am alone.)

(What do you tell me?)

(You reach my messages in your sleep.  I tell you how my bones fit
together.)

(What else?)

(I tell you that I can feel the hairs on your face growing on the
palm
of my hand.)

(I am growing a beard.)

(My hand itches, and on cold nights it is wet with your breath.  Do
you speak to me when you are alone?)

(Yes, I say your name.)

(How do you say it?)

(Eels, trumpets and worn paper.  I say it as fast as I can, I don't
want anyone to see me talking to myself. )