Shovel

Shovel I am dressed in black wearing a black veil and black long gloves There’s a ditch beside me I roll you with one of my feet It’s hard, You refuse to roll over You get stuck, unwilling to roll over making me sweat, torturing me some more, abusing me some more Not wanting to love me anymore some more, never more? I manage to roll you on your back Your crystal eyes as cold as ice look into mine and say no more In the end, You give in and roll into the ditch A foul smell rises into the air Taking the shovel, it cuts my hands with its rust the blood drips down onto your face Still………..a frozen expression a blank expression a no expression With difficulty, I put the shovel deep into the dirt raising it into the air, I throw as much as possible onto the dead corpse Its legs, arms begin to disappear first and then your crystal eyes that are sharp as knives I take a white cross and push it down hard on the head of the grave I howl like a dog I wail as the tears run down my cheeks as I put one of my bloody hands into the other I am a widow Pale complexion Why do I live while you are dead? Why do I suffer alone? Why am I not in that ditch with you? Beside you? With you? Beside you