funeral

i had a bruise under my left eye
and one on my upper lip and
as the occasion deemed it
i wore all black except
for my red shoes which
the angels wanted to steal
i couldn’t cry until most
gave me the cold shoulder
but the tears were warm
upon my frozen psyche
that night i got drunk
with the man who would
be my first lover, later
while i was still shattered
now the years have passed
and i’m the only one
moving forward
putting that day in my pocket
to keep my st. christopher’s
company

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