They covered all the mirrors in my room,
But I still recall us dancing, looking back at our youth,
A picture crisper than an apple, a bride and a groom
Getting drunk on love and some cheap vermouth.
They opened all the windows in our house,
And I pulled down the curtains, wreaking havoc.
They blew out the candles, buttoned up my blouse,
Sung to me gently as I listened to the traffic.
They put on their finest black gowns.
I tried to convince them – this is not the occasion.
His family drove over from the other town,
And their tears reeked of a ruined vacation.
They stood around me like it was a ritual,
Petting my hair and giving me long gone flowers.
It is funny how some view death as habitual,
“What human creates, the God devours.”
They all looked at him with pity and pain,
Ceremonially cussing out life and its violence.
They did not even notice my bloody vail
Or how his bruised palms made me forever silent.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 