Release

In the aftermath of all this grief
I have begun to drape myself in inquiry.

This black mourning for the signature
that identified my words with beauty
is the crosshatching I have needed to escape
the obtuse and unfeeling magnets of light.

If I cry again
maybe this time I will release the poison
like a waterway after the thawing snows.

In the aftermath of all this grief
I will ask the hardest questions
so that I might understand
what I've always missed before.