It was a quiet gasp in row 15 of an airplane that met the news. Passengers settling in for a delayed flight. The rumblings of irritation and gentle resignation.

And I was simmering in soft devastation.

They taught me about good. About echoes. About the rattling in my ribs. About the breathless turn of a phrase.

They were are a beacon of light.

They knew know so much, and still asked ask questions.

I don’t know how to reconcile with this new past tense.

I really thought they might live forever. And then they remind me, that they will.


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