We'd seen it so many times
in the movies
but not one of us could make them shut 

Petey wouldn't touch the dead
said the dead play tag with the living
and return if only to touch you back
and he couldn't stand that
if his eyes were open like hers 

Chuck rubbed his fingertips
like they might get her dirty
and then leaned in, casting
a Nosferatu shadow over her
as his limp hand made a victory-V
and he said rest in peace
as he carefully pried her lids down
with the pressure of his fingers 

but they didn't follow
and Charley got his fingertips wet and cold
in those black eye sockets
and she still stared up at him
even as he pulled away
and that was the worst part 

Anxiously, Andy rushed down
as though to cover up Charley's mistake,
and he rolled his palm down her face
like a bowler caresses a new ball
until he finds the fingerholes 

but Andy stopped when he felt the thick crease
of the woman's eyelids, as supple and bloated
as her lips pursing for a kiss
her face as hollow and wanting
as the first time he'd felt her up
and he could not go on 

Eventually, Paul succeeded
in forcing her eyes to shut
but they fluttered back open
as woodenly as a puppet's
as comically as curtains

and they seemed to say no      
this is not like the movies      
this is not like the movies      
I refuse to block the light
I refuse to close the shutters      
and seeing makes what you did a sin
and sight is the brick I clutch
as I sink into this ocean
and watch you grow smaller—
but infinitely denser—above me