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Urn in the Corner

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my Grandfather's ashes lie in the Corner of
Mother's bedroom,
hidden beyond Urn and Cardboard, kept from me like
the rest of her Secrets,
hushed-up Marriages and family Deaths that I
cannot be fooled to look past

Grandfather often visited this place we call Home -
but never once did he visit
Mother's bedroom,
so I wonder, was it intuition? Did he know
that one day, he would lie in that Corner,
having been set fire to after my Mother's last
kiss left his forehead,
having been ignited into bursting Flames
like beams of Light,
his only company coated strangers,
until he was unrecognizable
and his blood from his bone could no longer
be distinguished

Mother told me that when she
dies, she would like to be
burnt to pieces,
and I suppose I will obey,
but you can bet I won't keep her in a Corner where
Children are not out of reach,
who do not need to be haunted
but, oh no,
there is no harm to me - I who am
taunted by Spirits in my sleep,
I who walks gleefully among
the dead after
sunfall.

Though the rest did not know -
I believe my intuition once told me so,
that my Home would become a Graveyard,
my Mother's room a Tomb.




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