HALF AGAIN
There is a law that nothing is ever zero.
When you split something in half
and in half again,
there is always a half to split again.
Even if subatomic and scarcely there,
it will never be nothing.
I imagine you in your casket,
I remember touching it at your funeral.
I know that after we hugged the last time,
kissing the cheek three times,
a proper Balkan good-bye,
I never left your sweater.
My fingertip dust is somewhere
on your skin. Together we are
in half and in half again.
You are still here, in half
and half again, somewhere
you are in my hair,
touching the back in my head in church.
And under the cross which you are buried,
we are both there.
In half and half again.
…..
