i will collect
all the tears i have cried
over you,
and pour them in a bag,
made out of all the skin
on my body
that you touched.

and i will bury it
in the ground like
your father,
but it will never return
to Earth as ash.

it will crystalize
solid, discreet, congealed,
no longer a liquid weight
in my blood,
but a geode
in the forest of my past.