By now I'm almost gone.
Between the tan hair and ashen end
I was finely dealt with.
I could elevate the moment and say,
"But I rise",
But I don't rise.
So many of us committed suicide at the same time
That memory eased up a bit, used only first names--
Nicknames for the Johns .
Nicknames for the virgins.
I used to look up at night to the coin of sky above the well where
I wound up.
As if counting out along with me I would with Them catch the feathers that fell where
Individual ribs should have been.
And with each I would remind myself that I to it--not it to I
Was close to a captive mercy,