i want to sit with my grief
look it in the eye
speak with it
but it won't sit still

it ranges, restless, between the extreme and obscure
between mimicry and denunciation

it insists on action where i would seek rest
it insists on community where i would seek solitude
it insists on meaning where i would seek blackness

perhaps following
grief
is the best direction i can take

*

some days you are called to let someone's heart break
at your kitchen table in your hands in your lap in your mouth