it was never spoken about in her home; in her childhood
death and all it's friends - no, pals
everything did anything but die
flowers wilt.
milk expires.
lights dim.
batteries lose power.
wood decays.
bridges weaken.
learning about death and dying came very heavy for her
muy pesado.
molto pesante.
like a train coming at her from the end of a tunnel without its beacon
neither a whistle to warn her of its impending approach
no warning of death and dying.
...
pouring a second glass of champagne from the bottle; emerald and glistening,
she wondered when the ride would be over
where was this blackmobile taking her?
if this was the first day of her life, she would ask to die
the apprehension was slowly killing her
her legs produced a fictitious rip in the leather seat as she crossed them and sunk back into the sound of air escaping from a tire
more from the bottle of green that glistens
and she thought,
flowers can be replanted
milk can be purchased again at the store
lightbulbs are replaced with ladders
batteries are exchanged
wood can be treated and bridges, reinforced
always a cheap - no, inexpensive drunk; her mind was swimming in bubbly luxury
bottles are emptied.
dizzy with the nothingness of death and dying, the last of the luxury disappears
warming her soul, she felt a sting; like a bee, in her chest
and in that moment she thought about life and living;
honey doesn't expire.
(to be continued)
