This is a poem entitled "Ledger."
There is no record of us, my darling.
No stone, no name written within.
There is a memory of rain but it was alone in the world then.
Florida loves me.
Exams I failed as a child love me.
An unfinished name loves me.
A name with a scrawl for its final half.
An accident.
Near midnight, a box of ashes falls hopefully from my hands,
is reflected for its remaining days
in a room on the first story.
I've received a letter from the Ledger's wife
in memory of our voice together.
Stay with us, we watch for you, amen.
Heartbeat, there is no record of mention of us, notation for us.
No name for stone.
No name written within the stone.
No white name.
No white stone."