Written by Zoe

At your memorial I watch your daughter light one up,

heavy acrid smoke flowing from cracked lips

mingling with the mist surrounding the back of the church

She avoids my gaze on the next drag and says,

“I couldn’t get through this shit without smoking”

In a whisper and a blink, I’m back at the playground

tumbling off the slide, young, barefoot, and

wild enough to ignore the bees hiding in the tall grass.

When I am stung I cry for my mother

while you dig through your purse and pull out

a gleaming glittering golden penny

“Here, the copper in it will take the hurt away”

The cold metal on my foot felt like a kiss but

a hacking cough brings me back

to a world with and without you,

where the weight of your urn feels like a hug

My cousin clings to your sweater, ashes

tumbling from her fingers staining

the fabric while wrapping it tighter around

herself as Livin La Vida Loca

rings out from the reception below

Your bittersweet funeral toll