April 28 TH

Ice 9/5/86 re: P.

Blood stains before me,
Covering the gaps and ridges,
Crust of magma on the lashes.
Rolling slightly, the blinds flutter,
A gasp or groan and the wind blows.
Still, the blood slowly browns,
A tear in the perfect fabric,
The stuffing is leaking,
Life is gone.
Parted, the opening that I had touched,
Numbness, seeping downward between spirit and flesh,
The last candle goes out.
But, still, there is body,
Although, now, an empty husk...
Rain falls in torrents,
Thunder, lightning and leaves fall down.
Earthquakes, and you are buried.