Why was yours the stained glass that cracked?

“Nothing ever happens on a Thursday,”
My bearded teacher would joke
And nothing – nothing – did pass
Till nothingness barged inside
52 Thursdays from last.

You were young but 28 years
Are years not counted with clocks
But loves and hates and miles
And a leaky trail of once-known souls.

(Soul, why do you rise when most
Violated or when Benjamins care?
I could ignore you for years
If you did not engage me with blows.)

I did not know you best or deepest
As we became the men who once inhabited 4 year
Old hearts that were hearts
Because there was no best or deepest then.

Then there were only games and jokes
And me wishing I was you
-I, I the sensitive one
So why was yours the stained glass that cracked?

52 Thursdays ago
Is a deep mystery in a cold cave
That I will never find
Thanks to you.

Thank you
For being a soul and seeing souls in
Chests that imprison
Until the restoration of all things
Such as your body.

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