When Grief Enters the Studio

abracadabra

It was in my coffee

so I drank it -and the pen started avoiding it.

so I let it.

As if planning the day and the next body of work could hold me together,

This humpty dumpty won't fall.

If I don't look at it it isn't true- it wont hurt.

crumble into a million sharp crystalized fragments.

I am the one breaking

Feel.

Be Afraid.

Cry.

The daughter watching the father slip away in the mist-again.

on the hippity hop in the driveway.

watching him drive into forever-

dust from the tires like magic smoke-

abra-cadabra.