I took sustenance from tectonic plates
of complacency, believing
earth was solid, identity a given,
at least in my circles.
my legacy was safe, the particular
crystal ball in which I perceived my future
My, mine, my, mine.
All the while, you hid
behind matchbox cars, denial,
your room walled with secrets,
in battle with those same perceptions, despairing
over the vacuousness of your life.
A seismic apocalypse has freed you, opened
a hole of grief and loss for us.
We honor your passing with sorrow, wash
away the sadness with tears, pray that love