MAUSOLEUM
tears of iron ore tumble down his stubble-bitten face
as
he contemplates the entrance to the mausoleum
thick slabs of limestone death
dance back and forth amongst the dull snakes of fog
he
falters
underneath his eyelids
the
quiet sandpaper pain of her absence
scrapes away at him
she
had labored on and on
like an ancient wheezing coal miner pick-axing at the air for oxygen
the
hot-coal images of her ice-cold deathbed
have become vague memories of hospital efficiency
and
antiseptic thoughts
eyes blinking rapidly
a
pocket of air pressure in the small of his back
nudges him forward
footstep after reluctant footstep
his
liquid tension shadow dripping down the sidewalk
as
the perimeter of the house of tombs beckons
barrier of black light
gravity well of compulsion
his
uneven stare accesses the door
his
inability to stop mourning
revolves around his skin
preventing him from crossing the threshold
to
disinfect himself of remorse