Echo and Narcissus

The mirror cracks and splits your grin in two,

My lip’s still bleeding from the kiss you gave,

A silver curtain’s draped around the top,

The webs are thick with dust and fossils of

Flies.

Like Dorian’s portrait maggots could breed

In your eyes.

I tear your face off the wall.

It shatters, clatters like the din of war,

Your face swims on the floor,

A sea of silver; memories are splinters.

Surrounded by your face so proud but grim,

Your lips are bluer than the grave is cold,

And mine are stapled, I speak with my eyes.

The tears are scraping, scratching in my throat,

That hurts with over-straining,

My mouth forms an ‘O’

A broken sound escapes, neither voiced nor silent,

A solemn song like a swan composing its own eulogy,

All words are obsolete now,

I closed your eyes before they lowered you.

I pause by your headstone.

It’s marble, beautiful,

Would win your approval.

The flesh may die but I still breathe the sweet

Scent of your soul.

You push your head up where the bones decayed,

Your eyes are sore and dazzled by the sun.