death didn’t come

death came to my door early one morning.

grouchy, curious, and barely dressed, i greeted her

taking in her new gucci scarlet shrouds.

she kissed me full on the mouth.

she pressed hard and forced my lip’s cavern.

she inhaled my white gardenia deeply.

confused, i scratched my head.

i smiled, the movement disengaging.

i pulled away and explained her mistake.

 

“i keep my hair short, so my wigs fit better.”

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