She was told to cleanse herself in the waters of her own absolution. She was told there's no requirement for a new, crackling bundle of failure to feed the fire. She read about a woman who invited all her friends to celebrate her birthday, but in the form of a funeral. She was still very much alive, yet they read eulogies to make it easier for all to assess the past. Afterwards, they toasted each other with champagne, ate slices of cake that would have been left as offerings to the dead. Unsurprisingly, no one said banalities like This is what she would have wanted; this is what she liked or didn't like. She was still there to say how much she enjoyed the music, how much she admired the flowers and candles and wine. Nobody offered up thoughts or prayers. No animals were slaughtered to please an absent god. No one talked about the end of the road or coming to terms. Whoever was there wanted to be there; whoever was not, didn't.
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.