Gone From the Boat, Far From the Ocean 5

You've got to wait for it
you can't force it or make it
It comes like a bud
to bloom on the sill
of your window
that you never knew, never noticed
until now: the bud becoming
something, coming out of what we call nothing
Something

You've got to wait for it
first, for the crushing realization:
"This is real. This just happened."
"He is gone."
then for the nuclear blast in slow motion
the lava flow made up entirely of things
you can never do with him again
never say to him
never see that look--
incredulous sidelong glance--
or sincere and honest laughter
pushing out of his body

"Never again"
it creeps up on you
you don't know where it came from
but here it is
visible in the near distance
close enough to be felt
to squint at and ask,
"What is that?"
but you have to wait for it
to get closer
to come to you, into you,
around you, all around you
impossibly slow
creeping

Like Sisyphus, you push it
force it to happen
the way you want it
Thinking that standing
on the train tracks
is enough to stop the train
Pushing raw egg with both hands
into shards of broken shell
Borrowing a car
driving through the foggy night
windows down
weaving through every street
calling the name of your runaway dog
forgetting that it died
so many years ago

You've got to wait for it
wait for it to take everything away
forever
wait for it to burn out completely
leaving a rubbed-raw spot
a plot of bare blackened earth
all around you, within you
You