I declared him dead
in my own mind, at least.
There are so many stories
I’ve written
to explain his absence.
But people still call his name
when they look at me.
No one is dead
until their bills
stop getting mailed to your house.
No one is dead
until you find
a home for their glassware collection.
No one is dead
until you file
the correct paperwork.
I bury him daily
and exhume him all over again
to avoid awkward conversations.
I run past the last place
he was felt,
writing another story
for myself.

Elle Jay Snyder is a trans woman, poet, and part-time phantom from Staten Island. Insta: @ourladyofpoetics