That shattered moon

I cannot mourn my dead husband, because he is alive. He died yesterday. He left my life at noon. His death came suddenly, abruptly. I still haven’t recovered from the shock. I look around and see nothing, people speak to me and I can’t hear them— it’s as if the blood has drained from my body, as if I’ve run out of tears. My life is shattered. Shattered. Shattered.