I've found the seance to be quite moving
the sheet above the body levitated
I saw the dead hand fall from the window
stuck fast with rubies
Poison? How else was it that she died?
Ribbons still in her hair
Leeches in her teeth
heart full of pride
I might as well get the words
SOAP BOX
tattooed on the bottoms of my feet
my sweet may I repeat?
I've stiffened myself to the possibility
that she might, in her death,
be showing me life lessons;
and my heart is almost open to it
the way curtains pulled tight
barely open
to let in the glaring sun.