I watched you die online
watched your death on screen
holding my phone up to my face
charging and recharging it
so easily, but not you
this will be the end of my father
and I can’t believe that they charge the dead
for time spent in the morgue
that you lie there
as I write this
lie there with my brother’s letter
on your chest, unread
lie there in the company of the dead
we returned to your room at the hospice
the images you used to communicate with
and your glasses made from recycled plastic from the ocean
red, I need to remember these things
blue was the colour of the jumper you wore
during the day and overnight
and now in the cold
it bothers me that your body is so alone
so without a soul
I saw a picture of you today
and it hurts to compare the sight of your body
to the man on the polaroid
my father existed somewhere in-between
Croque-Melpomene 