back when you held the concept
of unquestionably wrong
before love contorted itself
and your methods went sharp
before your taste of heaven
sent you downwards
the cold cold ground lumping up
saying i will meet you son
you always belonged to me
relentless against the nascent day
did you stand mudspattered
did you call your resistance a curse
returning weary and empty
which twist in the wire
was the one to send you spinning
what we choose to memorialize
controls us in its way
i remember you as the moon
lifting soft and bright
some small gift
in the curve and shine
of your shoulders bent
over that other light
mattress dungeon 