mary II

i remember the smile

you gave me in class

the morning your baby 

brother died. if i told

the truth when you asked
what i've become

since you last saw me

you'd have given me 

the same smile pulled 

out of blackness like 

bodiless hairs pulled 

from old graves.

i remember the tears too
but they seem less

crippling than that smile.

we'd sit in my ford 

while the windows fogged

& i think i've cried the last

of mine but i wonder 

if they still come for you.