ballad of the valdaro lovers
2021
when we were whole, i held your hand,
completing anatomy’s perfect jigsaw.
alas, all good things must come to an end—
the cosmos’ blueprint’s fatal flaw.
as the world caves in, i cling to your palms—
we sing the lovers’ hymn, ‘til death do us part.
come here, sweetheart, i’ll hold you in my arms.
awaiting quietus, in death we are art.
the human hand has twenty-seven bones,
eternal enchantment encoded in ossein.
each of my phalanges clutches onto yours,
thicker than blood in disintegrated veins.
a promise unbroken in fifty-four fragments,
eroded ribs still encage our shared hearth,
burying our ballad six feet beneath—
and at last, we rest, returned to the earth.