There she is, my best friend,

Now a stranger

Laid in a box like something

You’d buy at a butcher’s counter,

Wrapped up nicely

In her finest clothes

I halt at the entranceway

Take a deep breath

Remembering the times

We’ve had - some good

Some bad - hands atremble

What would you say to me now?

How would we twist this to ensure

We’d be able to face the truth?

But I, alone, gather my strength

To face this one-human

Mannequin