"Your grandfather died this morning"
Tonight's the viewing of the body
Oh my God, I don't know him
Who's this stranger?
With the porcelain skin?
The clear, smooth face?
This is not my grandfather
I refuse to touch him
It's not him
This just makes
The situation
Less real
I feel like a child
Saying
Where is he?
No, that's not him
It's not
I refuse to believe that
I keep it in, once people start coming
To see my grandfather's body
-Later-
The only thing that bothers me
Is that Aunt Beth made me open
My birthday present
In that room