Where do you hold your grief?
Surely it isn’t in your happiest smiles.
But you may hold it in your teeth.
Maybe it’s stuck there, like a cavity waiting to be pulled out.
By death? By a dentist? By a first world country that protects you?
Where can I find your happiness?
Surely not in your tears.
But maybe in the water that flows out your eyes– and that remains inside of you most of the time. Every tear lost is happiness forgot.
Where can I find your thoughts?
Surely in the things you haven’t forgotten.
But maybe inside all the connections that make up your neuropathways. They hide there unassuming before they’re fired off into nothingness.
Where can I find you?
Surely not in the annex.
But in the light. In the day. When all my cavities, tears and neurons have all passed away. I see you there, in the light. In my auntie’s face.