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?    

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