If I went to your funeral,
I would sweep my hair up Grecian,
and slink into a dress draped charcoal,
with gold bangles on my arms,
and jewels cascading down my throat,
and stars in my eyes.
I would not greet any strangers,
all the people who know you, but
I would kiss your empty casket;
empty, for you could not have left
without your body,
so I would dream all the visions
you sent for me and reel ecstatic
in front of crying grandmothers,
and sweat profusely with pleasures
under the stares of former in-laws,
and fornicate with your ghost
in frolicsome agonies,
and you’d see me for the first time
from the rafters.


                  1. Once it would’ve been quite impressive. The pockets that are left are gorgeous, though. Can’t complain about the view, or the toucans ๐Ÿ˜‰

Love you, too

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