Day of the Dead

Bones bounce as I cross the boundary, feel the change,
weave  into the underworld. Flesh peels away as I pedal
further, cavernous holes appear in my skull. I have foreseen
our wedding. Purple flower gripped in my gumless teeth,
a white shroud hangs from my shoulders. My beloved has
a cane and a black top hat. The streets are lined with flowers,
candles and grim hombres chattering - choose a  kind man.
I taste tequila, the flesh of the worm in the base of my glass.
I have been faithful to the white cross. A shadow man gave
me a parcel as a reward but I was shocked at the contents.
How can it be the same school blazer after thirty years?
Yet, here I am, pedalling on this dusty Mexican road to
marry a gentleman. Honest to his bare bones, trustworthy
as the death rattle.

(first published by The Alchemy Spoon, Spell Issue, April 2021)

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