Remains

By Anne Marie Wells

I wonder if your refrigerated flesh burned as I cried 

in the shower, if I reached for the tub edge, dizzy

as flames engulfed your knees and hips and feet, if 

that’s when I watched shampoo swill the drain, 

clogged by my hair and spit.

I wonder if a chimney coughed you out somewhere, if 

the sky choked on your ash one last time. I wonder

if I missed your papal farewell not knowing 

where to look, or if I saw your body

that night, a smoke ring around the moon.

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 Anne Marie Wells (she/her) of Hoback Junction, Wyoming is a queer poet, playwright, and storyteller navigating the world with a chronic illness.