Edwin Honig
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Now, My Usefulness Over

Now, my usefulness over,
the weight of your death
in a handful of ashes
drags at my mind.

My need is the lamp snuffed out
by your absence, and silence
all I have given
my mind to believe.

From ashes I carry you back
to your handsome warm fullness
and alight in a blackness
of time with the burden.

Turning I find myself emptied,
rifled of you and, cored
of my meaning, dumped
in a boneless sack.

Now stuck in my skin to wear,
minded over forever,
is this cruel and absolute
jewel of your life.

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