I am mourning people who are technically still alive. People keep asking if I will reconnect like there is not a whole graveyard of attempts already. There is no funeral for the version of your family you kept hoping might arrive. The silence has a family resemblance all its own. I grieve the language we never learned in time. It hurts differently when the person could call and chooses not to. People keep asking if I will reconnect like there is not a whole graveyard of attempts already. I grieve the language we never learned in time. The silence has a family resemblance all its own. This kind of grief keeps asking for closure from people who never offered safety.
For the one still alive and still absent