Torn rose petals lie on his chest,
Covering the cross
They placed in his hands
(One he would have never held).
His lips caked
With a heavy powder
Covering the pale pink
I once kissed -
His freckles faded
From the attempt they made
To make his skin look warm,
Warmer than it ever was
Or could have been.
My tears fall towards his face in the casket,
Aching to dissolve the illusion of life
They created.
I can't help but think
This isn't the Charlie I know.
"I love you Charlie" I say in my thoughts
Again and again,
And then aloud to this...
Body, corpse, whatever
That couldn't possibly be
The Charlie I kissed downtown
Waiting for my bus
While my thighs throbbed from knew passions
And first time kisses.