present ghost soul love | a grief poem

after death, life is taken apart

*

life is studied with objects

empty ghost-scented clothes

idle toothbrush and shower gel

half-finished box of mints

a leather bag waiting on a bridge

the lack of flesh and blood

collector’s items

lover’s treasure chests

pick me up again

pick me up

*

I’ve studied your remains

the scent of death and preservation in my nostrils

never to leave

my memory, my body

I’ve inhaled the rest of you then and there

in a green room with an ever-repetitive melody

love poured out of my fingertips

into you, into the coffin you

I’ve said goodbye to a part of myself

you were never alone in that coffin

when you went up in flames

with everything you loved

becoming one

*

our mother’s walk

your shattered bones

*

your empty room

an abyss in the heart of a flat

*

everything you own

I’ll trade it for your life

*

I put objects close to my chest

as if they were you

*

the dead don’t water their plants

*

a day that started like all the others

*

took us off the road

*

your sheets and covers

packed in a plastic bag

to contain your smell

your body’s scent

when it had a pulse

the bag is sealed

*

and now you will never change

you will never grow older

you’ve skipped our lives in-between

fast-forwarded to the end

*

cremated our brother when he was most alive

My own drawing © Laura Gentile 2021 | Instagram: @melpomenepaintings

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