For Karel

Head, no legs.
Purplish blue. Almost white.
Almost mine.
You knew what it was
you and your mother
masculine and mine
masculine and mine.

Like a tadpole
tail where its legs should be
not even attempting to
swim through the mess it was in
before it was flushed
when your scared hand wanted so badly to save it;
to save him.

But where would you save something that dead
something so undesired and murdered
something so unbelievably white
when each time i imagine it
the colors are
brilliant red and crimson
and filled with somber forgiveness
and regret
and a hidden thought of maybe
given a half-decade's time
and another chance
all would be right
and ready
and willing

But life waits for nothing
not another chance
nor a half-decade
nor the right person
for the right person
so
here
is the place
where I say
I'm sorry.