you are made death, and in your doom, possibility.

I can say your name now. Both of them. Last, first.
But only directly to you. In your absence they grate across my tongue and dry my throat.

In an unreplied message dated 9/11/1999 you said: "I would like to be able to spend
time with you, and I'll be honest; I am more curious than anything else
at this point."

your curious has gotten you to the UW.
your curious has left me at home.
your curious is a hungry student wrapping presents for refugees
in an old church on Roosevelt way.
your curious never called once.
your curious doesn't live here
she skipped town on 9/11, 1999.