This dress of yours, the A-line way it hangs off my body,
the bosom that’s a bit too big,
it’s the last thing I’ll wear in front of you.
Meghann tells me I look like a diva,
with straight hair and heart-shaped
sunglasses hiding my face.
Five months ago sabía.
Five months ago.
I couldn’t touch the coffin ‘til now,
as it waited for the stygian to lower it into the cement box
to protect it from earth.
I left two flowers and a kiss for you.
I didn’t speak. The choir didn’t want to hear what I had to say.
They think you’re in heaven now.
Then came that concrete slab sealing you in
a world of rotting roses and pine.
Your brother shoveled dirt. I could see it
wander in the wind. I could feel the sun burn
as the viejos did the same.
Then the dump truck came.
My soul reached out for that shovel.
My feet stayed planted on the earth