Fuck You for Dying by Rocío Iglesias

You--

gouger of eyes

plucker of stars

clear girl, vanishing in smoke like a magic show

Me--

making a permanent mourning cross between my eyebrows

begging you, forever on the run like a wave, not to return the ocean

I have been known to say that yours was a windsong,

tall and stoic like a ceiba,

and dangerous like it too

then suddenly sad, like a long journey home from a joyous trip

Your body inhabited by echoes and maudlin voices,

and when we would least expect it, shielded under the covers with only a flashlight between us,

a bird would shift free from inside you and fly away leaving us both aghast and delighted

You and me--

a conversation between angels 

a violent sob before the sea, sad fury, unstoppable

we were made of everything

Rocío Iglesias is a queer Cuban-American poet. Her work has appeared in various print and electronic publications and can most recently be found in Firmament Magazine and Brave Voices Magazine. She lives, breathes, and works in Minneapolis, MN.