It seems to me that it is I, and not Eric, who should have penned these words....  - for they speak my present  (and forever) lonely ache so well....

WHY DID YOU DIE?
by Eric L. Baker

in the quiet
morning mist
the primness
of the shore

soaked up
your tongue
you
could not whisper
to the cool grey
fire:

"My silence is louder
than any scream"

all the veins like ribbons
placid and so pristine
unbound your blood
and slit the seam

Where we have touched
and smoothed
this wrinkled sky
our frayed existence
our assuring lie

you

who believed in truth
much more than I
and you have left
desire,

I have need
to feel you
through
the still-born
waters' glass

a broken surface
a ripples'
midnight
circumstance

passing
from this world
to the next shore
lined
with sand and bone

you
a stranger there
alone.

Why did you go
and leave me
here
?


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