Tell the poets
Grief is in the waiting room
A cold hand with visible veins
Fingernails filled with dirt –
Dirt of the dead where worms unwind and
Knot and unwind and knot.
It is in the broken skin of a child’s knee
It is the seconds before the cry –
The realization everything burns more than usual How in that moment, it feels like you can’t go back Everything breaks above you, unwinds and knots Unwinds and knots.
It is in killing your loved ones years before it’s time
– A sick game of preparation –
It is in the good dog’s final lap around the house
– How they tried, how “it is just a dog,” how
Dark spots move at the corners of your sight – Sometimes it is a good dog, other times her face again – 90th birthday
– orange candle light glow – “happy birthday I love you.
Happy birthday, let’s hope for one more.”

It is in your face
The heaviness your eyes carry
The way your face breaks, unwinds and knots,

Justin D’Alesandro is a twenty-three year old writer from New Jersey. He recently graduated from New York University at the Tisch School of the Arts in the Dramatic Writing program. He has self-published two poetry books and loves storytelling in all forms.