Today a friend sat me down and told me to get my shit together. That a breaking heart is never easy, but will not kill me either. I am living, and it should matter. And then she shoved this poem into my hands and walked away.
And the stone word fell
On my still-living breast.
Never mind, I was ready.
I will manage somehow.
Today I have so much to do:
I must kill memory once and for all,
I must turn my soul to stone,
I must learn to live again—
Unless…Summer’s ardent rustling
Is like a festival outside my window.
For a long time I’ve foreseen this
Brilliant day, deserted house.