Stolen Honey In The Cemetery

I couldn’t leave you in peace, lying prone in the graveyard, covered in leaves, silent and alone.
Jettisoned plastic flowers made a bridal bouquet.
Touching edgy letters in granite and lichen etched marble had me humming tunes from stage musicals.
The angels looking down drew the short straw.
Posing beatifically all day is a drag.
I plump their lips with red pen, and savour summertime honey from fingers that deftly invaded the hive.
I was confirming my memory of you.
Even then, slipping away, the darkness held some allure.
In the morning light all things seem sweet and promising.


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