Dead My Lover Poem by James McLain

Gone I come back to walk in circles,
like a cork screw a wild pig's dick.
Tight lipped filled up with gas eye balls explode.
Last dragon it's shriveled up tounge and dark bushy eye.
Carved out of pink marble,
I sit at her feet and wait for the creeping of night.
While I read to her from her favorite book,
about what I saw when she was alive she once said.
Now dead when alive my last lover she was.
Naked as the day she was born I still care,
how she looks to me.
In side the box time has gone by her lips are dry.
She was and still is, I slip neath the lid and I hide,
from the truth, why she's here.