Eulogy

photocredit- Adrian McDonald

Now I boil my skin daily with prayers,

like a cow’s feet

hoping it softens enough to soothe my Lord’s taste.

Now I soak my face in Mary Kay,

like a splash of rainbow

hoping it twinkles to soothe his gaze.

His loins got these hands,

his ego and dishes got these hands.

His mints and accolades got that of another.

My thighs now carry the color of two wrinkled moons,

with hands the shape of weakness

and an antique spine, like the rosary of my grandmother.

This ring looks at me in disappointment,

In all days and nights it has tarried with me

more than my Lord or the bosom of his face.

My body is a graveyard,

in here lies dead dreams and buried plans.

Every day is an eulogy for me.