I was a child
the first time
you died.
Since then,
you have died
in my head
a dozen dozen times.
You died once
in my heart.
You died on my lips.
You died.
You died again.
I counted constellations
in your eyes
while you gave up
the last of yourself
to stardust,
and then I joined you
in sunset,
and then,
for the last time,
you died.
