The Viewing by Robert L. Dean, Jr.

Lifelike. What you always wanted to be. Formaldehyde so much more permanent than blood. No more heart murmurs to keep you awake nights wondering what we will make of it when you’re gone. That phial of white beach stuff on the mantelpiece. On what island did you open yourself up so much that it hurt. Under which moon did you pluck those ten thousand god-grains from naked flesh, casket that one fleeting moment of perfect penetration. Don’t worry dear. Your secret is safe with us. How natural you look this evening.

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