Friday, January 21, 2011

The Cleansing

The Cleansing

He thought about funeral pyres 
as he soaped her hair,
the many times they had 
played with shampoo
only to end-up in bed. 

Today it was different, her hands 
were cold and her chest 
had started to stiffen.
Two flocks of pigeons 
flying in different directions
crossed each other 
in the sky as bells 
atop the churches tolled.

He watched them through 
the bedroom window in silence 
and waited for the sun
to finish going down before 

drying her cold feet.  

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