RavenDudley

The smell used to prevent rot


With each kiss
of his rubber hand
I try not to wretch
As it mocks my grief on my lips


But I can’t stop
Showering the remains
Of what once was him
With all the love
He would have been given


I just don’t stare
I breath him in
Letting the site fill my lungs and my heart
How do describe just the shell of the most beautiful thing in the world?


It doesn’t do it justice, the shell
The very essence of what he once was
No longer here


I wouldn’t want him be trapped in there
Can a shell not also be the same thing as a cage?
A prison?
A tomb?
A body that was once his
but now isn’t