The Reaper’s Ex

for a time i was an escort for the grieving
followed the mournful home in a
black mercedes where the ground
growled against me and i wore
their aching on the knees of black slacks

held thermoses of tea with fake wedding rings
padded my bank account with the abstract
of loss.

walk up the stairs hand in hand
and, oh look, we’re having sex
with my shoulder blades slotted
between railings

but i don’t have to worry about
rug burn or bruised hips
because their opulence built a home
with stone stairs and marble banisters

they barely touch me and that’s alright
because we’re not here for intimacy
and the ice clawing through my lifted thighs
says more about them then it ever could
about the hole in my chest

Marcus L. Kearns is a Creative Writing student in the at St. Edward’s University in Austin, Texas. He graduated from Interlochen Arts Academy in 2017. His poetry has appeared in Cult Magazine and won several silver keys from the Scholastic Art and Writing Competition. Marcus’s poetry seeks empathy; rooting itself in the light of the natural world to find the unexpected hiding in the shadows.