LYING IN STATE

the breath is gone from this
room     now a numbing fog
oppresses the clutter

inert piles
of worn college notebooks
overflowing with a dead dialect
only spoken in the capital
of her past
a civilization suddenly ancient and
idealized into fable
the sole translator is no more

a single dried rose hanging on
the wall     a chained cassandra that
knew all along     a crucifix to a new
religion of mine called
'why?'
perhaps to be frozen juiceless
but beautiful like the rose

stuffed animals with unblinking
eyes     grieving by smiling
without relent
stunned mummies that know the
childish hugs are gone

a lavender negligee crumpled on the
floor     silk lace skin cells
                                                cast off
each time with serpentine grace
a fallen dusty purple neon
sign that will miss her
electricity

her fate refused to be turned
even
by pleas of charm honesty
sensuality vitality

Copyright © 1998 Raymond C. Sison.  All rights reserved.