The day of its death was not a dark cold day

We misplaced the December birthstone

somewhere in November 

or during this new season that has no name

striking blue from sky 

sea rises but can’t stop the forest fires

or castles becoming air.

The men who were loved but not lovers

vanished under the first rush of sand. 

No longer can we be found in one place on earth. 

We are everywhere, we are the ashes of lips

once a thousand diamonds now there only stones

manufactured moans

conflict free consumption

drones document the decline 

we ate everyone with an ethical mind 

we ate the caretakers who said time was running out.

Remember we once puzzled the parts of dogs 

abdomen to muzzle, dewclaw to flew to claw to cheek

our companions are hiding our delicate bones in their throats. 

Walking on a leash is not the way out.

We talk of beauty as if we are still beautiful 

the art of cutting gems can longer be found 

the limerence of water now a satiable thirst.

We wrenched away from the people who are able to love 

on behalf of the deceased, we return the sender

we can’t build a memorial to this uncertainty 

solid ground is as good a place to lay down as any.

Please take this crest and give it back to the wave 

crash us back into the depths again

we crave the imprecise tribute

of feathers post-bird

of shed skin to hand

of ever-shifting sand

of a twenty-to-thirty-year-old mind

of holding this frame for as long as we can.

^{Footnote: this poem was created using the Emptiness constraint as the starting point.}