Antebellum: Posthumous Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

But there will never
Be another beginning
Nor another noon-time haze
With you in it.

I am dead in this longing,
And you are alive
As you continue to
Stifle with your poignancy
And finery.

You smashed the Sun
And tangled the
Slivers upon your neck.
Your glaze,
Your unfazed purity
And your clandestine
Sight
I long to see,
To hear,
To catch a whiff
And remember even
And memorize as well
Have been
Far-flung
Like how the gossamer
Zephyr is far-fetched
Behind the moribund
Drizzle.

I will never
See you again,
And I have kept
The antebellum alive
Inside my lifeless body.