When the Zipper Doesn’t Open

There is a sound before thought.

There is a list before language.

There is a zipper that doesn't open.

I remember carrying that backpack in case I was stranded

and now I carry it so he won’t be.

And the zipper.

That zipper stuck on grief,

caught in it's teeth.

I can’t hear with the tv so loud

Tv off

Pill clink pill clink

Notebook

Sticky notes

It’s heavier than I remember

I’ll open it later