Things I burned that
Could still come back:
A million tons of broken glass

What didn't hurt
That I still burned:
Half a language dying in the dirt

Tabulate it:
Everything I saved
Everything I didn't give away

Stratify it:
Devastating loss

Everything I ate
All the people that I loved and I betrayed
Will be
A natural history –

But none of that was me

Lunch at Big Creek
We won't speak
Three days and then five days again next week
White sage, burnt brush
Calls I tried to make when you couldn't talk –
I might die, but they'll never dig that up

Don't you touch that
Don't you touch my grave
Or anything I didn't give away

You can have it
Please just takе it all

Everything I wore
All the lеtters that I wrote and I ignored
Will be
A natural history

I said it wasn't me

Got home late and wrote down what I thought
Laid my bones in sediment to rot

Felt it like another Pleistocene:

I thought I knew it once –
Well, it burned me in the back and now it's gone
A layer in the sea
A natural history
Are you missing me?