leading up to her death
where I kept a record of my weight loss
I was disappearing
in incremental stages
the numbers ticking backwards
I remember being fascinated
and wondering just how far I'd fade
the last entry made the day before she died
I wish when I die
to leave no trace
no shift in the air
nor imprint on a pillow
or even a memory in another's mind
no clothes in a cupboard
no hair in a brush
no half-read book on a bedside table
I wish it to be as if I was never there
or here
so when I get to my end
like numbers on a page
I just count backwards to nowhere
