Dear Cousin, these moments of inscription
accept as memorial, shards stranded
numbering on the line of days:
10226.8, 1985–2013
always reoccurring,
June is
ritual
all around us
digital:
age of staccato,
already the epistolary is cliché:
everyone addresses
someone, these letters
remain un-
sent
testimony
that space between
tear and
terror
about the body
they will tell us,
move on