I write knowing why the situation has presented itself, and yet
it’s not real
I’ve stood over your grave
I’ve touched your casket
I’ve imagined your headstone
but it’s too unbearable
I laminated your mass card
a few newspaper articles
seeing your name is a distant act
an English major reading another
famous work of fiction
an odd name coincidence
an event of years, decades past
then my heart withers within my chest
the heavy echo is replaced with a dull whimper
and I know
our family pictures will always be short one
1995-0412