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
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