Preserved

They never told me you had turned black

Your hair whiter than ever

Against formaldehyde skin

That’s all I could think about

Even as they chanted the hymns

And placed the face cloth

Later much later I cried in my sleep

As nightmares dragged me

On a runaway raft

Down rivers of embalming liquid

Flowing into your heart and brain

Preservatives can’t be good for you

Not even when you’re dead.