It is only
cat-like as it enters
the cemetery, something
skeletal
and de-veined
as it exits.
We spent time removing
corn husks and drove down
dirt roads. Our first winter
together, it was two days
into the season
before you told me
you loved me.
Four winters later, I admitted
the photographer
forced me to remove
my clothes before taking
the picture.
I had to explain the grip
of his hands and how warm
they were. How I couldn’t breathe
the cold air
of that room.
How four years after that,
both of our mothers
would die,
one of unnatural causes.