n/a

You remembered the gray
and when it came it was
a thing nearly visible, a coming in
and going out of nothing
you could name. You tried

to hold it in your lungs as though
it were a sacrament you could give back
to the body, your eyelids fluttering
then closing against
that too-muchness.

You folded your hands
around the teacup, watched
its rising steam enfold
the day's half-light. All this

while you tried to find a name
for this moment.