I Lost Him. I Lost the Hymn

I lost him. I lost the hymn unquestioning 

the froth that was his love, like the top 

of coffee. He kept love simple, as if pure.

When I called him on why I lost him,

he recited a handful of platitudes. 

I heard each one, lamented that he did not

hear me back. Did not hear me cry. Belied

my grief. My sleep grew thin. My speech

fell still. I could no longer hear the same

or lie down quietly and breathe within the frame

of new breath. I needed a Geiger counter-like

instrument to locate breath already mine. 

I mined what I minded, what I used to mind.

Mine for a while. I lost him, I lost the hymn.