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At Every Occasion I'll Be Ready for the Funeral

by Aaron Blair

I sat next to you,
uncomfortable in five-inch heels
and a black dress, the wrong color skin,
waiting for you to cry,
but you never did,
so I cried for you,
and I hated you a little,
for always reminding me how weak I am,
just by being strong.
You were forged in the same
kind of fire that incinerated my soul.
I could taste the soot in my own tears,
and I kept waiting for you to notice
when you kissed me, but your tongue
was a stone in your mouth,
a weight I wanted to take from you,
to swallow and let sink low inside my belly,
where it would finally dissolve.

01/29/2012

Author's Note: About Rasool’s grandmother’s funeral, a year and a half ago. Title borrowed from "Funeral" by Band of Horses.

Posted on 01/29/2012
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Blair

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kris Mara on 01/31/12 at 11:51 PM

agreed. very well crafted. It's personal and gets directly to the point effectively, efficiently, but not coldly...I love the whole thing, but perhaps especially the last half -- it builds a momentum and I love the images from the fire to the soot to the stone to the dissolving...really nice...

Posted by Meghan Helmich on 05/15/12 at 08:20 PM

"...Your tongue was a stone in your mouth"...I really like that.

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