The Corpse's Bride

Perhaps it's because of a conversation I had with Hammer shortly before bed last night, but I dreamed last night that I was sleeping with a corpse. I was married to a corpse. We lived in Narc's bedroom, but the corpse was not Narc. Every morning I would wake up and kiss the corpse. Then I would go make coffee in Narc's kitchen and take my cup of coffee back into his bedroom and sit at his computer, the corpse still in the bed. Narc's desk is made of metal and in my dream, it felt cold to rest my arms against it. In my dream, I surfed the internet and was sad. I tried to tell the corpse about things that I read, but I knew that he couldn't hear me.

This morning, I opened a book of poetry by Rilke and read the following. It is making my chest hurt.

Pieta

Full is my woe now, speechlessly it all
brims up in me. Rigid am I, as stone
at the stone's core.
Thus hard, I only see one thing:
that you have grown--
...and you have grown
into a grief so large,
it is beyond my heart to grasp
and reached out.
Now you lie right across my womb,
now I can nevermore
give birth to you.