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untitled

still numb, I
hang receiver on cradle
myself in oversized arms
still not big enough
to catch the enormity,
not small enough
to keep sand
from slipping away
from me.

it happens, you say,
it could have happened
when she was 25,
but it didn't.

i see her,
fighting her way
through transliteration,
i hear her voice,
shushing my shock
at her kindness
as if to say
everyone deserves this,
but you get it
because i love you.

as i clutch at roots,
the tree reminds me
that someday,
i'll be those roots,
and I need to build
a strong trunk, good
branches,
and be prepared
for the fact that,

no matter how hard
I want to stop it,
leaves still fall.