Wednesday, March 31, 2010

BROKEN CROWN


My hands are dusty and white
as I sift through the dark blue box 
holding your ashes 


They are heavy and gritty
as I look for a piece of you
scraping the ashes free


A small metal cup 
it's the lining of your new crown
The one I worried about


I tried to get you to go back
to have it done again
I thought it would cause you pain


I am typing these lines
thinking of your broken teeth
my fingers covered in you

2 comments:

  1. A great sadness came over me as I read this - that you have this sadness as a part of you to cause you pain. I don't know how you carry on, but you do, which lifts the corner of sadness and lets in hope, like the light of an obscured sun slipping between the horizon and low hanging storm clouds.

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  2. QUE SOY MAS FUERTE
    PORQUE TE LLEVO EN MI
    NO MI PEQUENA VIDA!!

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