amy

reading poetry inspires poetry

amy,
i can only see the outlines of your eyes
hollow blanks where orbs once orbited
you were the sun we revolved around.

you were so full of life, even in death
i could sense your smile like a shadow
blocking rays of sunlight from tanning my back
--a little cooler than the rest of me.

the morticians painted your nails deep blue
i wonder if they knew it was your favorite color,
or a lucky guess. your family was too afraid
to speak in sign language to strangers.

and those hands that said so much,
more than any mouth ever could
will never move on their own again.
arranged so delicately across your heart

that fails to pump blood into this body,
this cage, i am not my cage, you said,
my body is a cage and i am not my cage.
now, i can't see the spots where your

auburn hair no longer covered.
i always told you how jealous i was,
that your hair was so beautiful
in clumsy, fumbling gestures.

your eyes danced as you laughed,
silently, though you always laughed so much.
those eyes that you gave away, that worked
so perfectly even though your voice and ears couldn't.

those eyes outlined by deep, dark blue
like two moons orbiting your mars-red hair
phobos and deimos.

Author's Note

constructive crit would be nice, i haven't edited this at all. like, um, is the second stanza necessary? i like it, but i'm not sure if it fits.