some daily language

I can see along the far curve of the earth
my longing for you burning in a thin line of ember
red. Do not say a word

without me. Do not move
across a room without me,
your smell lingering.
Do not smile or cover up with blankets while I’m gone.
I can not stand to miss those things
one time.

Iraq is an empty world.
I remember a place that was full of you. I remember a place.
The phone lines here fail. My memory of you is not like
the smell. My imagination makes up a girl very like you
who does exactly what I would expect you to do, like you
would never do.

Why must you die? Why have you disappeared
farther away than my longing?