I woke up this morning
with the sight and scent
of bouquets of red roses
assembled on my chest.
My sleeping wife was gone.
An indentation of her body,
was all that remained in bed.
I searched all the rooms
of our house without
ever opening a door—
and discovered I could
walk through the walls.
I found my grieving wife
sitting Shiva with mirrors
covered in every room.
In the far-off distance,
I could hear a laudatory
eulogy that could not
possibly be for me.