More than

You were fervently aligned.
You were poison resistent.
You were lucky.
You are dead.


You were more than that, you think,
though you can’t be sure now. It’s
been a while, it feels like a tunnel
has been crossed and you can only
see the far end as a pinpoint of light,
or the sun seen from Pluto. You were
more, though, than appeared at first,
or you tell yourself you were because
isn’t everyone more than? Someone
told you that once, someone you cared
about, or else you told someone. You
can’t be sure, of course, because
you’ve lost something along the way.