He’d collect the air in deep
deliberate breaths,
hold to the fragrant odors
like a wish, the rest
of us feeling sick.
Then he’d say, “The dead don’t smell.
Trust me. This you’ll miss.”

He’d collect the air in deep
deliberate breaths,
hold to the fragrant odors
like a wish, the rest
of us feeling sick.
Then he’d say, “The dead don’t smell.
Trust me. This you’ll miss.”