Looking Dead

Her face was cold when
my finger brushed it in the coffin
and my mother told me no

Unclenching my jaw
I leaned over the mahogany and
my lips fell apart as I started to say goodbye

I swallowed a fly
It was black and
buzzed on the way down

I held my throat with
both hands and swore
The black was now a part of me
I had taken it in
that bit of death and that
little bit of life

Hearses drive by in my dreams
and I count tombstones as
I fall asleep

And then I cross my hands
across my chest
and swallow once again