When we released the remains of your body into the deep
I expected the tide and waves to take you
where my tears could not.
The tears, as always, were unexpected and unwelcome
but I encouraged them anyway
requesting they name themselves...
sadness? loss? anger? guilt?
They didn't answer
nor did I expect they would.
I cried for you, the same way you lived your life,
distanced from any emotion that might tear the fabric.
One tear and the whole thing may start to unravel,
which apparently was completely unacceptable.
And yet...I unraveled once.
I'm better for it...
certain of it, until
that needle of religious guilt sews up my joy
darning the hole through which I escaped
with a seal of condemnation.
We released you into the deep
and you sank into the sorrow you always carried,
slowly...maintaining the shape in which I unburdened my hands of you,
not scattered, not in the wind or the tide
still conformed...
a woman who, even in death
could not break free.
I watched your luminescent green ash sink
beneath me
tugging as in life, towards you
away from me.
You harmed me greatly.
I released you gently.
You scarred me for the duration of my life
and I took care of you in yours.
Everyone you sought so hard to impress
were without witness
and you left the earth alone.
I expected the tide and the waves to take you
but it was the deep that claimed you.
You went straight down.
