Simply

This cannot

simply be it,

I only left

him sleeping

for an hour,

only left him

alone

for a 

second;

this cannot be. 

The draw

was open,

letters piling out,

I read one,

left the others,

the handwriting

was merely scribbles

on the page,

but I understood. 

This cannot

simply be

the end

of something,

something so final. 

He hardly woke

as I left,

hardly moved,

hardly woke;

if only I could possess

something

with no mind. 

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