The Damned and the Deceased

My shoes sit quiet by the door, My corpse on the floor, My jacket on the corner chair. The smell of stale Virginia Slims And perfume and gin Permeates the stifling air. The rain taps the window pane, Percussion to the soft refrain Of horns from distant passing trains. She shakes and cries, My body, paralyzed, Reflected in her teary eyes That silently apologize. The lies I'd tell, the hurtful things I'd do Slip out of the room, And all that's left is us. The lights, red and blue and bright, Pierce the sequinned veil of night And approach us with the wail and cry Of sirens. She Topples to her knees, Drops the pistol mindlessly, And crawling, curls up next to me. And here we lie, the damned and the deceased At last finding peace Together on the floor.