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I can still hear her voice in my head
You'll never get over it
Still see the minivan parked in the sun
You have to find a way to live with what you've done

All these stories start out the same:
The sun rose in the morning.
Lily in the mirror, making a face
Every moment now is endlessly re-played

Pray you never have to learn
Just how much someone can hurt

Have to believe that there's a light
Have to believe the surgeon found a way to sleep at night
And that the joy, when it finally arrives,
Is crystallized
Like grief has its own way
Of letting in life.

A surgeon's work is never done
A flash of a memory as she peels off her gloves
And then the panic in an icy cold rush
And the rest is much too much
And the rest is just much too much
For me
to imagine

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