Tara’s Suit

Before death she said, Bury me

in the clothes of my lover, but

when she passed there was no

lover to be found. They dressed

her in her father’s trousers, her

brother’s vest, and the lip-stained

remains of the oldest son’s shirt.

When the people came they did

not note the way her hair just

so curled lovingly around the

buttons of he who beat her; nor

did they think it prudent to mark

the knee thrust against a tiny

not-quite-neat stitch in the leg.

So beautiful she looked and so

they say Breathtaking instead.

So cold she seemed but they

say Sad, or perhaps Solemn.