geisha

with the solar eclipse
came
a falling away
a cleaning of the kitchen cabinets
right down
to the aging coffee scoop
as if the new morning light
chased your wailing ghost
into the burning sunrise
two years
that’s how long it takes
for love to die
and when all of it
is considered in a dissection tray
only these things were real
it doesn’t matter how you screwed up
i never want anything once it becomes mine
the way you always giggled and asked
did you fly backwards
when i squeaked out my tinkerbell sneezes
and the way you would smile
and compulsively photograph me laughing
a geisha
head bowed
hand over mouth
bashfully holding the joy inside