Evergreen

Her flesh has became sweet,
like buttermilk,
but highly tainted with strong alcohol,
and a sour aftertaste.
I should have started on her earlier
when she was still fresh.
Now nature has had its way.

The feeling of the skin is all wrong,
it shifts too much.
I tried to draw her away from the rest of them
but something pulled unexpectedly
tissues seeming to rupture under the exertion.
Something spilled out, seeping into the carpet;
it couldn't absorb it all.

It was too thick
Clumpy really.
The  muscles seem to be reforming under my touch,
slipping to the side, as my fingers dip
into a space I cannot see.
They have the texture of warm tapioca
as her limbs seem to elongate under gravity.

I caught her staring at me again.
There were no eyelids to close,
and she never stops smiling.
Her teeth are mostly inedible unless crushed,
though, I try not to touch her face.
The blood has pooled in her limbs,
drawing the color from her once rosy cheeks.

In the morning, the sun casts her
in a hue resembling life.
It is fleeting though.  In a hour or so the light shifts
and she is dead again.
I make sure I never miss those moments,
when her amber colored eyes
express the glow they had in life.

The walls seem to move by inches
closing in around me.
The Christmas lights I strung up flicker.
I mean to replace them, but I can't leave her here alone.
I promised she would never have to be,
that one way or another we would be together,
a part of one another.

Outside, the snow collects on the window sill.
I try to dig the kids out of every morning.
After tonight's storm I don't think I will find them.
Christmas just isn't the same if they weren't here though.
I keep the presents under the tree,
and the ornaments and tinsel hung in place.
Christmas day. Together with my family.

What else could I ask for?