My Love You Died in My Dream Last Night

Heather Christle

    I did not know it was possible (your constancy

    being among your chief characteristics)

    and I, bereft, could not think of how to tell our child

    and so kindly you got up and together we admired

    the suit in which you chose to be buried

    and your ongoing good humor.

    I thought it would not last long, your ability

    to continue talking with a body going soft

    and tried to limit my conversation so as to have you

    a few more hours, but also was buzzing with questions

    of what I was now to do without you, questions

    I could ask no one else—what do they know—

    and when at last you admitted your need

    to lay yourself  back down in the coffin

    I cut a square of  light from my throat

    and when you closed your eyes I buried it with you.