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Fancy death

Didn't you know?
Death dresses to the hilt
And comes knocking at crazy hours
With a makeup kit
Painting dark rings around the eyes
Sallow and sullen
The perfect shirt sprawled out
Put on
Pale and wallowing
Pants encumbering
Until no walking can be done
Shoes of swollen pooling
The liquid undoing
The inner code
Of slowing and stopping
A beat to a dull rap
And a breath fades
It's all a part of a charade
Death dressing souls grim
When on the other side
It's a laughing whim

© 2021 Loly Rinn
Photo by Christopher Campbell on Unsplash
Published inLatest Poetry

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