when does it all fall apart

the man who is my neighbour
draws mouthfuls of tobacco
from curved stem of his pipe
the curve cools the smoke
he smiles and the puff is
beautiful; an aura around his head
i think of my grandmother in her chair
laugh out loud at the molecules that
held her together for ninety seven years
she was once a little girl who
kissed a boy for the first time

i am also amazed that distance
equals rate, times, time and am
dumb-struck by the square root
of minus one

and all the angels fall
every last one of them
with a thud that makes me
look underneath the bed
and close the wardrobe door
before i can go to sleep

i know children and teens
their chests bitten through
by war, red like the river's mud

i cling to nights he told me
he'd love me forever and
i'd put my lips around his
then he'd kiss my mouth
with his tongue

our molecules were a
fumbling grace as we
laughed about the
beautiful distance between us

i cling without shame to friends
who i fear will leave when i do
something unforgivable because
i am filled with unforgivable things

i hug close two great loves of my life
and whisper i love you
hoping they understand when i don't

fear is the old angel over in the living room
ignoring us and reading a book
and sitting in a rocker that's rocking and rocking
and suddenly i know he's old enough
to be a grandfather but he's really you
and somehow he knows why
time makes you look like you do
when nothing ever made is

ever the same more than once