Love is Different When You're Dead

by Marie Cloutier

Image credit: Osman Rana on Unsplash

Walking forward, reaching back

through clouds of bone and dust

through ruins and meltdowns in

this landscape of grief and rust,

You're pulled away, snatched backward,

with every step turned to ash

as I hold on, grasp hard, fingers

tight, left only with scratches.

The winds slap me from all sides.

Dead leaves pile at my feet.

Desperate, the confused beauty

where love and eternity meet.

***

Marie Cloutier

Marie Cloutier (she/her) is a writer and poet. Her work has appeared in Bending Genres, Bare Back Magazine, Neologism Poetry Review and elsewhere. She is at work on a memoir. Her website is www.mariecloutier.com.