Lethal Injection

One pinch, and winter drifts toward your heart.
Your eyes are dazzled by the thought and keep
a point transfixed in space - cold and apart,
two fathers watch them shudder into sleep.
Now I will speak, though I cannot forgive:
lifting the iron from my tongue I swear
three syllables that are too vain to live,
that fall out stillborn, withered in mid-air.

You cannot hear me now. You lie so still
my voice returns to me, its breath turned sour.
They lift the sheet and hide your face from view.
Most will forget your name. Two never will,
who'll waken nightly in this terrible hour
joined in the ritual of remembering you.

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