the last time
I lost you
I found myself
feverishly saving stories
of how many people
died that day
and how
I would
flip through them
eyes burning
hands trembling
GREEDY
tasting them
with relish
seething envy
reciting their names
lusting after their deaths
almost hating them
for escaping
struck by lightning?
so many! so lucky!
electrocuted?
how sudden, how kind!
road accident?
how ordinary! I'll take it!
insides turned into soup
by fluoride ion?
a slow death, this,
always too late
when you know
you've been exposed
[it was too late
when I knew
I had exposed myself
to loss to come,
to this heavy grief,
when I first set eyes on you]
imagine being
envious of the dead
- damp corpses
rotting in cold graves -
but that was then
