Wednesday, December 3, 2008

White Funeral

I have seen a brilliant funeral,
where they all wear white.
A garland of pale yellow carnations
adorned her neck. 

They placed her on the fire. 

Wrapped in linen, infused with oils;
you could count her transgressions
rise from the smoke of the pyre.

They took the form of the faces
on which she had trespassed; Friends,
lovers, children, Her One, parents, animals
floating from her burning body
releasing her pain into the cool summer air. 

Their faces, as they ascended, were smiling;
for they had already forgiven her 
but stayed locked inside her heart
until this very dying moment. 

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