Christmas after my friend died
By J.C.B.
Published: December 2, 2008
Updated: December 2, 2008

Necrophiliac (1 December 2008)

This Christmas it will be
four years and one day
since I met you.
This Christmas it will be
Four months and three weeks
since you died.
This Christmas would have been
our first Christmas together
since we made up

which would have been
around now.

This Christmas,
if anyone pulls a cracker
I will hear screetching breaks.
If anyone stabs at turkey
with a fork,
I will see your pierced flesh.
I'll see limp limbs they never let me view.

Psychedelic tree lights
reflect something
of your ever-changing eyes,
which see no more
in Inferno.

When I unwrap your gift,
I'll thank you.
We'll draw uncomfortably close,
your unshaven chin
against my growing beard.
And you will cough
(you always cough before
exploring my face).

There will be a cake.
White icing will cover burnt currants.
I won't eat it;
I'll feel too sick to face food.
You won't eat it,
now you're thin air.