touched by an angel

i visit death
in my mind

a hundred moments in a day

i wonder

not what death
is like
but for those
left
behind

i have grieved before
i understand
the
vocabulary
we gave death
and
dying

the desolation of missing a person

i don’t know how to die
i don’t know how to be the one
who causes such misery
by
their absence

i wonder
if they feel our pain
the dead
do they think
on
us
at
all

or maybe there’s just nothingness
a deep and eternal slumber
dreaming
of wonder

perhaps
a longing
to return
earthbound

and
fragile

to touch — once again — our beloved

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