Poem beginning and ending with my grandfather’s tailored suits
And what is it to be made
from the good stuff but to count
your layers spread out before anyone
who would be willing enough
to take a piece I tap the scars
on my arms each time
something repeats like today
the sun held onto the sky like a child
grasping the air of their imagination
and hoisting it for all to see
there are days when my breath wishes
to enter someone else get away
from these damaged lungs and who am I
to deprive them of that My grandfather tells me
his graduation suits were tailor-made He tears
a scrap of my skin and holds it to my eyes
what can I do but look
what can I do but allow this
piece of me to be held in his hands
My grandfather tells me
his graduation suits were tailor-made
and all I see is light falling
from his face it swells and swells
until there are yellow spheres
illuminating every inch between us
my grandfather tells me
his graduation suits were tailor-made
What can I do but listen as his words fall
like fresh sand off the wings
of a gull’s first flight
I wrap my arms around the memories
that seep from my grandfather’s
mouth and make their way to me
I gather all I can and let them burry me
under their weight
Today all I ask for is today
today I walk barefoot along the scenes
of my grandfather’s childhood
Today my grandfather tells me his graduation suits
were tailor made and I see the sentence exit his mouth
covered in the air from his lungs
I reach out for it and hold on
