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