I’ve never found out
if they shot you that night at the stadium
or dumped you into the ocean,
only that you were ticked off on the list.
They believe it is so easy to kill.
But you still exist since I miss you so –
a void has the shape of what is lost.
The blind darkness gives you eyes,
my sense of loss gives you a voice.
Though this morning you scared me a bit
with your sudden laugh behind me.
And your beard that rubbed against my neck.