“A House Dissolves” by Gabriel Deibel
The evening came and I woke up
to curl myself in your wool. Pale blues and creamy whites
where your whispers still hold. Our house is
like the warble of blue jays. Under gray clouds
that run down the length of my chest.
Those remains rot. Coated in blisters and sores.
My limbs stretch out to hold you while
eye sockets fill with biting tears.
My screams are
They never reach you.
So our house dissolves.
Blown away in specks of ash and dust.
It’s nothing but air.
You laid down right here.
Do you know that? For three days
you gasped for oxygen
in shallow breaths.
To bury your eyes in deep
and bitter snow.
Now I’ll trade this liquor for blood.
To wander this mess of rooms I barely recall.
Wailing and wishing for absence.
I soak in bathtubs now, I try to scrub fat from bone
We both know winter comes, in years and months it still comes
Like your veins drowning in morphine
I must clean this