Sorry. WordPress bugged out on me. First it reformatted things, and then it put up this post three days ago. Yeah, you read that right–it published as three days ago. WTF? No clue. I don’t like overwhelming those who read my blog, especially with sad poetry. Egads, that’s annoying. But it went up and some people saw it, commented. In my attempt to fix things, I might have lost those comments. If you did and don’t see it here, I hope you’ll leave it again. In the end, it was just too frustrating to fix completely so I let it stay up. Peace.
The hook’s gone up her nose, her brain
pulled out, an incision cut
organs removed and left
to dry in the desert sun.
Lungs and intestines, stomach and liver
In limestone jars watched over
by Hapy, Qebehsenuef,
Duamutef and Imsety.
Her heart goes back into her body
The piece of it that’s his alone
Her body is washed with wine and spices
covered in salt, a curing ham.
She’s stuffed like a taxidermy fox
Sand giving back her shape but
harder than it was,
As it has to be now.
She’s wrapped carefully in linen, preserved
Placed in a box and stored away. Waiting
for the rest of her still alive and loving.
Still happy to be a wife, a mother, a grandmother.
A daughter, a sister, an aunt.
A writer, a friend.
Knowing she’s dead doesn’t make her less alive
It’s only that piece of her
He took with him when he left.
Preserved and waiting in the dark.