it comes like ice

behind your tears which flow
and those stuck frozen as ice
unshed upon a cheek,
unbled upon a soul duly rent

is a feeling felt with reason
unable to gain release
of a thought held fast as fact
of what won’t come to pass

and an ending of a dream
you’d rather not let go, or surrender —
like the fatal blossom’s kiss
you cannot unremember.

(triptych of grief, iii)