Post mortem

 He keeps dying

            in my dreams;

    which is the part I accompanied

                less

                    as I wasn't there at all

                and more

                    as I was checking in almost daily.

One summer, we went on holidays

        and discovered five new beaches.

Next summer, he wasn't anymore.

And now

        he isn't visiting me in my dreams.

        His death is.

    Which I find comforting:

    It confirms

        that I hadn't skipped over

                        his presence.

    The only closure I'm needing

                        is with his death.

So

he keeps dying

        in my dreams.