here am I eating eggs and a half avo —
my other half was you
but now it sits wrapped in foil in the fridge for tomorrow.
I thought of the avocado trees and I asked myself
“was it worth it? All this sacrificial bullshit? For the loss of
them, him, the orchard, the children, the life that we loved so well?”
and I smiled, and thought, only time will tell
and generally remarked that I’m feeling fine
that my mind and body aren’t grieving even half the time
anymore.
But after breakfast
I went upstairs to put my face on
and sprayed the perfume I’ve avoided since you left
— Another 13 —
and I was caught off guard
knees buckled
hit the floor
and the ocean welled up inside me
like those bull waves would catch us some grey mornings
on the coast where our love blossomed.
on the floor I wept
but with strange delight
to know what hurt still lived within me
as I pondered the madness of another 13 —
another thirteen moons
without my other half
without you.
