The body.

The body lies on a steel table

All around it people stand

Scrubbing, cleaning, harvesting

As in fruits from an orchard.

Enbalmed and disarmed

I see you as you saunter off

Your hands in your pockets

Whistling a familiar chord

I know the smell of death, I think

That stench of rot

And formaldehyde

That refuses to wash off.

Words I thought I never would hear,

Spoken to cleave the soul

The cadaver floats away

In a sea of faces long gone

“This is how it is”, you smile

Refusing to acknowledge my pain,

“This is the way of the world, see?

All of life is an illusion, your cares in vain.”

Are these then illusions too?

Those hands I hold in mine?

Your voice calling to me in the dark

Across gurneys abandoned by time?

My hands now man the oars

“A little to the left”, you used to say

“both hands must pull together

If you want to go straight”.

So am I going straight?

My hands have unequal power

Water leaks from eyes

That told you I would never cry.

But cry I did. Like a child,

Like man whose roof is snatched

In the middle of a storm.

I stand where I always stood.

Here in this room

Naked in my aloneness

With you in my head for company

And the dead body I visit again and again.

In the cold hospital room

Where time stands still.

And I wait for you to speak.

To my restless soul.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Nameera says:

    This is so very beautiful. I love the vivid imagery it creates in my mind.

    Like

  2. meloheart says:

    Gave me a chilled feeling

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply to meloheart Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s