The First Time I Saw You in a Dress
I touch your face in the casket
and feel the bone just below.
Soon you’ll be a skeleton in a blue dress
and the smile I loved since birth
will peek at me between the aisles
of Walmart around Halloween.
It will be your new face, come October
I’m not sure how long it takes
but once I close the lid
you’ll never be the same.
I shouldn’t have come
because this is how I’ll picture you now
and it doesn’t even look like you.
I’m asking you to haunt me, like you promised.
You said when you die I’ll feel you in the breeze
but it’s March
and the wind is cold.