coma

black and bleeding, her
body is cradled like mother
mary to jesus. mouth open
wide like a clumsy goldfish—

but she cannot breathe,
and her eyes watch me
like trapped butterflies
and ancient night fireflies.

ever growing dimmer,
the spark is fading like
a musty fire. and i can
smell tragedy on her breath.

like mint, it has a particular
scent. she is vanishing now,
eyes flickering like a television.
and she crackles silently—

remember me,
(stillness like snow)
and death.

author’s notes : christmas day.