Rigor Mortis
How fixed is my mind? How many times a week do I see someone out the corner of my eye who moves like you? With the same hair line, the same brand of sunglasses, or driving the same kind of truck? How rigid is my brain? How many times a day do I forget when I hear someone with the same baritone laugh, and I turn to greet you? How many times, will I deny that I touched your arm while you lied, unmoving in your coffin, and I expected your skin to feel hard, like a mannequin, but it wasn’t. It felt like you- only cold. And how frozen is my heart? How many times an hour, -a minute, will I be reminded of the fact that you are gone, and yet I am the one who is motionless?