the dirt’s turned up, the body’s gone
and the makeshift cross is snapped in two
maybe you should’ve dug the hole a bit deeper
maybe you should’ve made it work

now everything is plastic-wrapped and vacuum-sealed
and all you can smell is germ-x and cheap soap
but it’s better than her perfume
you burned her clothes and lingerie in your backyard
along with her favorite books you didn’t read
— she never asked for anything to be returned

you forgot about her for a while
the words of her eulogy gave you closure
“it’s over”
entwined with clichés and *******
that fertilized your daffodils —
the flowers of new beginnings

but then you saw her corpse
reanimated with Another on her arm
and the laughter that plays in your head
when you can’t sleep at night
spilled from her undead lips

her memory flooded your mind
and gnawed your brain
as you returned to her upturned grave
delirious in a sleepwalk daze
plucking petals from a daffodil