If I am to swim in the waters of emotion, let me be like a shark, tearing the flesh of feeling apart. Time will pass, and all will forget the oceans were ever blue. I cannot predict much, but I can still prepare for the best and the worst. Sometimes it is hard to tell them apart.
I do not have a child in my womb, growing fast and strong. I do not have a burden on my back, growing roots through me, down to the ground below. I do not have the taste of blood in my mouth, and a man seeking an apology. I do not have so many other awful things, so I sigh. Just one. Just a little release.
Ruey is with me, once again. There his urn sits, just a few feet away from me. His final home is an altar. A good king is always remembered as a god. My prayer is in the mourning that leaves me feeling connected to him. It is in the tears that will not cease. Don’t ever leave me, I so often said. Not a one can promise they will not.