No Denouement

 

At my funeral there is confusion.

A body that was my own, 

eyes staring hopeful and young.

Nothing to burn and burst in a crescendo of heat, and bring to ash,

No denouement

I find it hard to carry her.

The fullness of sorrow and insidious sick in my weak bones,

The grief of a young life and oh,

I want to be her again--

I want to be her again!

Wrapped in the cloak of falsity,

These things happen to other people

But never to me.



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