"we watched you plant your spirit in the garden of your muddy grace next to an abandoned field of credit cards that had long since expired. Each card bearing the name of someone you needed to put in the ground... & you were waiting for a hard rain to wash your past away...But the downpour didn't come, and you pushed me into the hole that I'd dug. On top of my body you piled all of our glow-in-the-dark memories. Memories as hard as my head and as soft as your neck. Memories as radiant and as bruised as my hypersensitive grace.Memories that not even your haiku conversations, sparse from words you never had the courage to say,can obliterate.'"-T.Debartolo
