Always

She laid the coins on my eyes
– cold… she did not think to warm
them for the dead

He removed the leaches
from my whiter than white skin
– do they not know I can feel
the flow of blood from my limbs?

She combed my hair
with a rough, horse-hair brush
– did it matter that it pulled on my scalp?

Now they have placed me into my new home: pine scented.
Scratchy cloth on my face.

It is so dark now
can she hear me as I whisper?

“Goodbye, I will love you, always.”