Astrid

 One day, she died.

Where did you go?

Why did you leave so early?

I barely knew you.

You left me your blue ceramic cat.

I kiss it. I pet it.

It meows to me. 

You were the original mew. 

You were my mew. 

I wept like the Virgin Mary

weeping for her baby son 

lying on her lap in the Pieta

Only it's the son crying for the mother

the mother who was diaphenous

and barely present.

Bugessa, the bugger of the bug!

Only you could make that joke.

Imprinted on my consciousness

and soul. 

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