The Autopsy.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

i eat alone
i do not ask that
you join me.

neither i, shall ask
for your presence.

i am having my own
feast.

soon, we shall not
share the same bed.
i am at home with
my own sleep, my own
dream.

soon someone shall
leave the house,
without the help of
any word.

it is here, the sooner
the better, without the
comfort of unkind words.

soon you shall be free,
and it will be the same
with me.

we still have years to
figure this out,
the explanation at the
end, shall be
written by the pen
of the
mortician.