Grief affects relationships endlessly. All of them. For some, the tenuous nature of connection asserts itself. For others, a numbness ensues, a shielding. The quick open bursts of weeping & vulnerability can be stoppered by a dry detachment in which nothing means like it used to. The lost held in their distances from which they jab & jag out at you, erratically, surprisingly and devastate. Then who will hold you & not judge is what you seek. The flower that was in the mouth looks down into ruins and the petals it once talked fall silently past the rivulet-skin, the mind’s abysses. Elegy is excess and also, it is the way to repeat: I cannot access you anymore no matter what sounds are uttered, what words etched.