flames heating skin
and smoke watering eyes;
oh- how it burns,
but it's utterly beautiful
and utterly him-
we burned our prayers
and incense row by row,
while she told of her husband
appearing within a dream,
wishing to visit us
in america,
and i gazed upon him
in shades of black and white
upon marble tombstone,
so sorrowfully serene,
and i said to him,
"i'm finally here, grandfather,
but i never imagined
that when we met again,
it'd be like this."

and when the tears slid down,
this time around,
it wasn't from the smoke,
but from the ache of my heart.