How are you, my darling?
It’s been a long time or has it been a year
since I saw you
since I knew you
did I know you
at all?

I write you this letter
and writing this letter’s
the least I can do for my husband.
My husband.
Oh god, you’ve been gone so long
and not aged a day
While I’ve moved along and aged years
And hoping and screaming
and smiling and grieving
I look at myself and think back
To the promises made
and the lives never lived
and the way that I’d fight you
and that’s why I write you
today.

You should see me now
I’ve been on my toes for so long
that I’m six feet tall
while you’re lying six underground

I miss you, we miss you
The kids have all flown
but they’d send you their love
If they knew you
If they’d known you
at all.

You’d be so proud of me
It’s been a whole year
since I’ve broken my promise
and poured out a drink
And it tastes just like you
but am I proud of me
when I pour out that promise to clean up the stains on the sink
or the stairs
or my back
or my hair that you’ve kept
and is buried with you
and began to grow back
in your pockets, your ankles ensnared by the vines
and the flesh of my double that grew
While I drink to forget that this double’s for you.

And do you remember
The night I said yes
When, shining with sweat,
We murmured ‘I do’
And we said it again
And again till we meant it.
I mean till we knew it was real.
And do you remember
I promised to love you
to have and to hold you
till death us do part
and you clung to my thigh
and that’s when I told you
I’d love you till the day that you die.

Are you coming home?
I’ve left the door open
I’ve left my blinds open
Will you watch me?…
For old times’ sake
will you make me immortal
by tracing my steps
make me circle around
and wish I could leave
and wish I could die
in a fire, perhaps,
or at least let me burn
before I am ossified, fossilized, petrified,
and left here to watch and to wait and to walk and to whisper
a gallery’s history of stone and of steel
where the Paul bared and spread
all your ashes and drowned
and which you had no right to
and that’s why I write you
today.

You should see me now
now that you’re gone
no devil can replace you
and I’ll move on
But there’s no longer home
when there’s you in this town
I swallowed an ocean of
feeling and breaking
and never cried again.

Hello, I miss you
I know that I’m rambling
Will I know how to kiss you
if I saw you again?
Should I burn your letters,
your wife, and your soul
Or imagine, instead,
the life I’d have led
if I had died with you?