Eulogy

Cross-legged on the crest of a frozen ocean wave,

with the bricks of my out-breaths

I build a shrine in mid-air

for everything that didn't outlive the sun.

There is laughter in my skin.

I only heard it once

my ear drums deflated,

my eyes shriveled.

My tears have expanded in their glands—

the headache of heartbreak has sharpened

an icicle in my brain

for a thousand years.

This heart no longer beats, but moans

a baritone saxophone OM.