3 acessos
A photo essay of a family in mourning
perforated ever so slightly to better let the lights seep through
Sunday traffic clears a path
we float inches above the road
close our eyes and drive so slow
like we never need to get home
To clear the doorstep of flowers
throw open the blinds in his empty room
avert our eyes from his fingerprints
is there something I'm forgetting?
fall to my knees in the hospital parking lot
on the way in, arms full of branches
I am dead fall, dead fall
Last time I came here to visit him
I ran sunburn through the halls
my arms full of tiger lilies
I don't remember this
I was told to go home
To clear the doorstep of flowers
throw open the blinds in his empty room
avert my eyes from his fingerprints
is there something I'm forgetting?
(Why, when you know you should go, is it so hard to leave?)
Came this far to say goodbye, to make things right
instead I fiddle with his blankets
fetching coffee no one would drink
I am not prepared
Through the hush of debts and the roar of engines
struggled to recall, this is how it ended
this is how it ends
Home,
turn the key in the door and fall
for what it seems like an awfully long time
there's something I'm both remembering and forgetting
a name on the tip of my tongue
(Why, when you know you should go, is it so hard to leave?)