I met Death when I was only a young girl

His hands were very cold and his eyes were a dark blue, speckled

Like a sky full of stars on a summer night

He was on his way to Maya’s house

Where he would take her brother, the funny one

Who taught us songs with words in them that we weren’t supposed to say

When they took him to the coroner – was it murder or suicide, your honor? –

They cut him open, so that his insides

Would become his outsides

They pulled the layers back, one by one,

And the coroner nodded, as he knew

He would be done for the rest of the day

Before him lay a boy, still and quiet like a bloody angel,

His hands cold, and his eyes wide open: they were a dark blue, speckled

Like a sky full of stars on a summer night