Today I wander past store fronts,
Lost in faces,
And in my own clothes.
I wish for impossible things:
Wishing, would you believe, to stroke
The throat of a unicorn?
Wishing for the touch of your fingertips on my face
Without having to remind you
How that tenderness is the highest height.
I am lost today.
My body is hurting
And my grandfather's death
Has left me on a lonely ship
Churning confusion in its wake.
It leaves me seeing faces, set like dominoes,
His as the catalyst tilting forward.
I will live to see them all fall down.
My grandpa died on Friday last.
A polarizing figure in our family. I'm wading through my own sorrow and wrote this while wandering.