After You’re Gone

After you’re gone
I shall stand behind the lectern,
Read the kind of eulogy
Keats could have written.

After you’re gone
I shall scatter your ashes
Laced with poppy seeds
Just as you wanted.

After you’re gone
I shall cease from all kissing,
And when my flesh needs relief
Pretend it’s you that I’m touching.

After you’re gone
I shall light a votive candle
Commemorating our first kiss
On the Eve of St. Agnes.