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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