The Intimacy of Strangers

I had to bury you.

Hold a vigil,

Candlelit.

Throw ashes on your grave

Mourn you till I believed you were dead.

Till my body believed you were truly gone.

Till the residue of your presence was exhumed from mine
Till I could taste your absence, bitter, on my tongue
Till I felt it with my great tap root.

Yet, how you reincarnate

Fortified in this piece of glass and metal, connecting me to a haunting resemblance of you

A portal into an eerie apparition of your life, half curated, half imagined

entirely devoid of me.
A ghost bride and groom
Intricately familiar and yet completely new

intimate stranger
I’m so disconcerted. It’s uncanny—

Unheimlich

Ulu

Chale

Revenant

Does she know the rhythms of your voice when you speak to me?

a whole host of words foreign and familiar to us that we taught each other over the intimate cadences of our lives.

Different slopes and valleys interloping to match mine.

I do not believe it.

When you talk across the ocean, you emulate them,

When you speak with your guys, slipping into childhood rhythms.

I loved hearing your voice in its youth, in its most natural habitat.

With me, its musicality entirely bespoke.

diminished 7ths and notes your love wrote just for me. A river ever flowing

I will never forget that moment.

gutted, I fell, like a fish on the floor in the wet market

blood draining from my head

Sense leaking through my fingers.

Rivers pooling in my hands

Hollow in my stomach exponential

How cruel to be unkind.

I stayed on my knees and prayed,

for this haunting to end, to end, to end.

You are dead to me.

Catching my reflection, seeing what

A terrible look
Potent jealousy,
is on me.

Oh—

Let me go
let me go
let me
go

Grant me my deliverance

Wondering
Wandering
Wondering,

Why am I knit to you?

Soul-tie, that will knot break.

~ Jennifer 詠嫻 McGeever

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