Last night, at dusk, a young girl and boy
found a body washed up on the bank of a river.
They were just sixteen, out for a romantic scroll,
when they came across that woman.
The fading light made the smell even more overpowering,
darkened the green of her cheeks.
I’ve never come across a body.
It’s not like finding a much-desired gift
under the Christmas tree.
Or discovering, with fork in mouth, that I really do
love asparagus after all.
Or the revelation that I know the answers
to the test in front of me.
It’s surely the very opposite of these
and I can’t imagine what that would be like.
I can only wrap my head around
the absence of a gift,
the gruesomeness of an unlovely vegetable,
the repeated stonewalling of a question,
and I know that it is none of these.
Last night, at dusk, a…
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