Desurrection

by Rebecca Latyntseva

Fluorescent astroturf unleashes sluicegates of tears,
artfully concaving into the abyss.
Not a clod of earth can be seen,
no worms wriggling their blind waltzes.

A black wall of mourners encircles the hole,
weeping sky kissing their crows-wings umbrellas.
Your toysized oak-veneer coffin lurches
nearer... nearer... nearer...
in wobbly increments,
borne by waxen pallbearers.

A pornography of flowers,
wound-red,
swaying and swinging with striptease ease
as your formaldehydead body
is lowered
downdowndown into the double-deep
His-&-Her ravine.
One on top of the other,
not spousal side-by-side.
Necrophiliapolis forever.

A necklace of our unsaid words
winds and binds my throat,
choke... choking... suffocating.
I shiver from untouched caresses
as my heart splinters with the
loss of lost love.

Spinning down the plughole of my grief,
the gravehole vortexes me.
As I scatter rose petals on your new home,
an angel’s wing flutters from a raincloud,
ushering me towards you.

Leaping down into the grave to join you
in perpetuum,
my spirit soars.
We are truly together.
For the first time in our lives.