It will be tragic seeing you lying there in a fur lined casket as big as a Coupe DeVille with a can of Old E 800 clenched in your cadaverous hands; the blood sucked out of you, your veins filled with lighter fluid, putty and lies filling in the cracks.
Your parents will lament. Old women will tear up and silk hankies will come fluttering out of purses like spooked doves. Your snake charming preacher will offer words while behind the podium he is manipulating himself as he looks up your dress. I will remember fucking you on your parent’s coffee table and having your father walk in and turn on the TV. I will ask if you remember how I said, “Halftime show!” No of course not you will be dead.
When I stop at your casket to pay my respects—twenty dollars?--I will lick the crook of your elbow to see if it still tastes like Raspberry body spray and then I will say say, “I was never obsessed with you. I just couldn’t let go.” They will drag me back to my seat and then ask me to leave. “Let me go,” I will say.
It will have been seven years since we broke up prior to your death and I will have marked this time with razor blade cuts up and down my arm. I will show the preacher and he will move two seats away. Your parents will yell and scream at me and I will sit there smiling at you, oblivious to everything but the grayness of your skin.
I will ask to be alone with you. Your parents will crazily shake their heads side to side behind my back, indicating NO! but the preacher will acquiesce. “I will be waiting right outside the door,” he will say. “For my turn,” he will say under his breath.
Finally it will just be just me and you my love. With a super industrial adhesive and love I will seal us in your casket. When we are comfortable I will turn on the Barry White in the CD player I have brought and open a magnum of champagne. Ah, bliss. When the mood is right I will remove you dress like I did so many times before and then I will remove my kilt.
They will scream and yell and pound on the casket but I will know this is how it should be. Me and you forever. It will be because I love you baby.
“That’s it,” I will say, “lie there like you mean it.”
7 comments:
Hoooooly shit. "Lie there like you mean it."
It is better to have loved a cadaver in a casket and lost than to never have loved at all.
Seal us in a casket with love, Ker.
Dave, so true.
Lou, of course I will seal us in a casket. Might I suggest we pack a DVD player and several of our favorite movies?
barry white for forever and ever, amen.
Yeah, because that's what I'm going to want to do, watch a movie...
Of course Lou I was kidding...he he
Wow, that gives a whole new meaning to "Pale Rider."
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