What To Think If Someone Is Dying

by Elizabeth P. Glixman

He smells of something dying
Something round and smashed
cells breaking apart
Rumbling pulling the sleeve off my robe
Cutting the halo that is mine
I am walking the circumference of a pit
That is damp and tepid
A hot bath of hounds elated at my demise
It is always like this when I look upward into your eyes
My eyes go red rimmed and I swell inside
Holding onto the edge of something round
So I won’t fall into oblivion.
I must walk the circle without falling.
I must walk the tightrope without giving in
I can be a clown
I can be the monkey that dances to music
The collar on my neck is pretty pink and I am laughing
They don’t know what I am thinking
I am thinking
A good banana would be nice