Our kitchen alcove, a chapel of sorts.


I’ve lit a candle for you

and imagine you sitting opposite me

at your place.

I eat a kiwi

and lick the spoon upside down

like you did

to savor and

to make me laugh.


There is so much I’d like to tell you

but I think you already know.

I miss you every day

and wonder how I can continue

(without you)

until I realize

your love is still alive

(with me) and I need to carry you on.


I just finished reading

The Autograph Man

by Zadie Smith.

Often, she makes me laugh

as if I’m in on an inside joke,

but this book hushed me

against expectation.

It ends with a ceremony

for a father

who has been dead for fifteen years

to the day, today

when you have been gone

for two

too long.


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