"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