grief, (i)

.
unadorned for a fortnight
the walls fall around me
spilt to the floor:
Monet's water lilies
and Klimt's gilded sirens
hiding death's image between breasts
and rounded tummies

my walls reveal
dusty contours
of where they once lived
Frida, Diego, mother
and sister

they have gone to the sea
leaving me here
between the tides
. . . . .with no frames
for these worn out memories
i still hold high above my head
.