Sunday, September 12, 2010

My friend Erica...

Soft warm grey box shimmers
       cold stiff limbs tucked away inside
                    left to dry lifeless like a prune.

No tears in her eyes they fall upon my cheeks instead
    salty lips reach for an unreachable hand
                 painted on peach color cheek bones.

Glass shell covers her- SnowWhite- preserved for greatness
          packaged -on her way to heaven
                         without a return address.

The price of the stamp
          Her LIFE.

-In memory of Erica Brown

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