A Letter from Your Love Interest (who is not an Embalmer)

When you leave

I’ll preserve you

(your memory, I mean).

 

I’ll tuck my dreams of you away

in a bed of Egyptian sand

for centuries and centuries, until

the treasure of your face is uncovered

a rich and ancient icon,

ossified,

priceless.

 

or I’ll dip you in brine

(my feelings for you, that is)

a recollection of our love suspended

in formaldehyde

or honey, like the Persians did.

 

or I’ll nestle you down deep

in a peat bog bed.

The unusual conditions

of low oxygen, acidic water

and Irish cold

will transform the reminder of you

into silky black leather.

 

or I’ll lay you down

on a long steel table

pierce your carotid artery

and expel your

blood and interstitial fluids

(uh, memories),

flush your veins with

methanol

(love)

and other solvents,

so the time we spent together remains

chilled forever

a tag on the right toe.

 

This is to say,

when you’re gone,

My thoughts of you will

never rot

they will never decompose.

you’ll remain forever

precious,

refrigerated

 

(in my mind).

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