my lunch break today

i went to the cemetery today.
it was bright and beautiful and blustery.
i couldn't find her and a little, old, mexican caretaker had to show me the way.
he asked 'is it new?'
when i said yes,
he pointed at a patch of ground. then he turned on his heels and left me.
i felt like someone opened up my abdomen and peeled the skin back. like everything on my inside was out.
and the only thing to do when someone's opened up your abdomen and peeled the skin back, when all your insides are out, is to sink to your knees.
so i did.
like a stone.
the earth met by my knees was soft and moist but the grass was all but dead. having not survived its upheaval months earlier, it was a perfectly rectangular yellow blight on an otherwise green hill.
there was no marker. there were no flowers.
i lay down on her barren grave and cried.
it was the closest i will ever be to her again. and it wasn't enough.
i lay with her like that for a while, curled up and crying and stroking the dead grass with my fingertips as if it were her hair or her hand. as if i were comforting her. and as if doing so comforted me.
finally i kissed her grave, wiped away the last of my tears, and gathered myself up.
i drove through the cemetery gates to reluctantly resume the business of living.