Photo A.M Moscoso

That could not have been you

I saw at the cemetery that day

sneaking out of your crypt in your finest

Sunday clothes.

That could not have been you

I heard singing in the cemetery that day

a dark little waltz

sung  sweetly off  key

Please tell me it wasn’t you

I saw in the cemetery that day

calling me to join you

in my finest Sunday Clothes.

Inktober 2018: Double