1400 degrees and rising

I.

You hated make-up

on me.

Scarlet lips bred

suspicion.

False advertising at best.

So of course,

You were above all of it.

A proper viewing.

An air-brushed face

with Kardashian contouring.

(You could have done it better on Photoshop)

A slim three piece suit--don’t even get me started.

A non-crossed eye 

portrait photo under dim lights.

Collages like a bad science project display

made with my blurry eyes and shaky hands.

A bowl of butterscotch candies
to remind us that life can be sweet.

Grandpa Joe (the one with the shared hairline)

donated his body to SCIENCE

even though he was a man of GOD

for those few years.

The same one who swam across the Hudson

for a bottle of whiskey

and still enjoyed the curves of every waitress

in tight black pants as he rounded 90.

II..

The eyelids were never sewn shut

your eyeballs shifty in its sockets.

1400 degrees

rising and rising

three hours later

thy will be done.

But I ask “Will it hurt?”