Narcissism

Imagining my funeral I must admit  
it excites me more than future weddings  
Nothing will change
My body delicately pampered soft as sin
and wrapped in Versace Fendi or Prada
Admirers flocking from far and wide
desperate for one last gaze  
Shielded by veils and silk handkerchiefs  
they won't even realize it's their greatest gift  
a role in my last display
although my image thrives
Ambrosial breath on lovers' neck
and delicate fingertips forever etched
Realizing your hearts will never again  
beat with the fervor my touch ignited
You will weep  
 
I imagine my funeral and giggle, nearly forgetting Gods don't die.