on one of the nights no nurse was here, of course
all the stories you promised to finish later
I must finish alone now I suppose
or leave them shriveling
roots unwatered
leaves unsunned
tips stilling instead of reaching
like that puppy I brought home once
and came back after summer camp to find him starved
only this time you cannot hear my complaints
I wondered then if you could hear them at all
I buried the damned dog
but you I will have buried
I will not dig your grave
nor drive a stone in to mark it
though it feels like I must carry a hundred holes
the endings you promised and postponed
and now you’ve ended without
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