as children we played
                          cowboys and indians

                     sneak attacks
                          and cavalry

                         bullet wounds and
                      laughter-

                        we died and
                          came back to life.

                      now older, I immersed
                       myself in books

                            you became lodged
                               in the past

                        you walk the streets
                     without a fear in the world

                         playing cowboys and indians
                            as we once did

                     with strangers
                   you’d never met

                           but this time, there were
                              bullets, but no laughter

                       and you died but
                    you never came back to life.

those who have departed
from us know everything, things
we forgot, and will know again.
and when i heard this i dug
deep into the earth, a space
six feet down and buried myself—
so that i might know,
for the first time in my life
the essence and beauty
of breath.