You see him walk by, a familiar person wrapped in strange skin,
you wonder if you ever have known him,
then he walks past you and
his shoulders brush yours into a neat reality that
you have lost him…
I don’t remember exactly what Rachel said to me
But I know that, on July 11th 2005, my Father died
And on that third day, Rachel resurrected a part of me
The things written in books she gives my class
Have turned me into fogs. In my sleep, the letters
Say that I am the 27th alphabet with no name;
