You Byron Hoot I saw you in a dream sad beyond consolation, words shattering as soon as they were spoken, your eyes and heart having seen, knowing the extreme of sadness: only hugging and rocking together meant anything. The speechlessness was apocalyptic, some change no vision could anticipate had occurred. I kept silent to keep the words from breaking, held you loosely and started counting sighs, the times your body shuttered, felt how far-reaching your tears were soaking us in sorrow. The ambiguity of comfort and desire to change the un- changeable floated in the air like incense rising carrying prayers and then you spoke, “What are we to do?” I awoke before replying.
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