XOXO Darcy

XOXO Darcy

Hey, Lilly, it’s me,

your old friend, Darcy,

who hung herself from the crab

apple tree at dusk last August. Sorry
you took it so hard, I wasn’t really

thinking of you when I climbed

that tree, crab apples breaking

under my grasp, painting

my hands in fresh juice. Pink

hand prints all along the branch I choose

as the last thing I would ever touch. Hey,

so the dreams are true,

there is something after death.

It’s not really life or heaven,

but the complete understanding

that we are star dust. I became

one with the dark matter, I fly

by on shooting stars, I do rings

around Venus and loop-de-loop

on Mars, I visited the horsehead

nebula, and toured the gamma quadrant.

Anyway, I just wanted to tell you:

you can stop putting flowers on my grave,

I have four hundred billion stellar ones

that never wilt.

XOXO

Darcy