My Tomb Poem by Michael Witkowski

My Tomb



You rest in my tomb- I
Turn my face to you- Eat
Your bleached bony cheeks
With my empty black eye
Sockets as you smile with
your hollow eye sockets

And we drift away to the places
We held hands - I tousled your
Falling curvy treses briwn as
Shoeshine and you gleamed in
My words but now our bed-
Worm infested - smells of time

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