I don't want to write.
Instead I'll remember
how grief took her
like demon possession,
heaps of emotion,
on a cold tile floor,
fluorescent light shading
us from her sight.
She had
left with her son
who vanished in a phone call
never to be heard
again.
We also changed
into transparency
as her husband lifted her
back to life,
but only partial;
what is lost is lost.
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