On the day the ground opened up and swallowed you whole,
some strange part of me wanted to reach inside that box to smooth my cracked hands across the beautiful blue of that suit I know
you took with you into the earth.
Wanted to see how they arranged your hands
and the shining silver halo light that always hung crooked but perfectly holy.
Whenever I stand at open graves,
I hold my breath,
and in my mind,
I jump.
Simon Kindt 