dissociation complete

the crisp spring light
floods your stonecold grave
where the first freesias of the new year
bud under your sun
that we’ve circled once
since the end of the past.

the circle is complete.

this is it then, the final cut
two wedding rings discarded
the past shut off, with
all the people in it and all the things
that were left undone and left unsaid -
flushed away in a flood of tears.

I loved you, my sun,
but my soul’s grown back,
and I travel without you now
onward onto an open ocean
in a new solar system