the morning nausea washes over and you fill my head, Heaven Brian
how you inspire the tender air between your mother and i
the explainable, common grief of “it’s too early”
the excitement you bring us in your simple existence
we swim in the others’ watery gaze
solemn hope coloring our lips
i love you, Heaven Brian, you were named in jest
in a car full of people who love you, too
Pajolo Cam 
say something!