Spell for Grief or Letting Go Adequate tears twisting up directly from the heart and rung out across the vocal chords until only a gasp remains; At least an hour a day spent staring at the truth in numb silence; A teacup of whiskey held with both hands, held still under the whispers of permission from friends who can see right through “ok” and “fine”; An absence of theory; Flight, as necessary; Poetry, your own and others, on precipice, abandonment, nature, and death; Courage to say what has happened, however strangling the words are…and space to not say a word; A brief dance with sugar, to
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