A Secret Pocket

“Somebody should tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying. Then we might live life to the limit, every minute of every day. Do it! I say. Whatever you want to do, do it now! There are only so many tomorrows.” ~ Pope Paul VI

.
I wasn’t crying
because you’re dead—
I know your soul
will always be
blissful. I wept

while stitching a secret
pocket into your shroud
(for tiny whiskey bottles,
dance music, stolen kisses,
a handwritten note…), and I
pricked my finger
with a needle.

The note says nothing
about sleeping or castles,
just… I miss you.

.
the wee notes…
The Wickedest of my Luvs asked for a “shroud”. I wrote one. Next week, I might write some “flesh”. We’ll see… since they’ve also asked for “souls” and an “eyeball”.
– Written for Hedgewitch’s Friday 55, also linking to Poets United.