Dikembe Not Today Angel
The room was covered in grass.
The sheets were oceans; as cold as ice.
I used to make faces at the faces you would make when I
told you to look.
When you weren't there
I sat alone inside the office where you used to hang
around,
but I was inside the sound of what was lost, and where I
found it.
In the room behind the clock, when I moved to dust behind
it.
The room has shifted in this place that you call "home"
without me in it.
