rigor mortis

it doesn't make sense but maybe that's the beauty of it

I don't know how

or why

but I keep coming back to that same f*****g swing

the one in the park

with the rusty chains and the dead flowers

it's like I'm stuck here

rooted in place without fail

why am I back?

why musn't I go?

what is keeping me here

it's been years, centuries

stuck at this swing

and your ghost no longer sits beside me

my limbs are heavy

oh so heavy

as I try to leap from this swing

but the vines keep holding me down

and my bones seem as though

they're melting away

but if that's how it must be

that's how it must stay

a constant state

rigor mortis

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

when love turns to rigor, we are stuck in a memory of a dead love...
ghosts do exist, and they do remind us.
j.