24 • CENTRAL REVIEW • SPRING 2020
Friday Funerals for Strawberry Kiwi Juice
by Samantha Shriber
A funeral was hosted on a Friday afternoon, It was one where dahlias budded from the casket’s corners, I lit an array of Dollar Tree candles and Enjoyed my mimosa too fast. Did you know mimosas are the drink of resurrection now? I’m not sure anymore though, Because each time someone cracks an egg open Burgundy comes streaming out in pandemonium. A duo of tree trunk spiders follow fervently behind, Tiny tongues in shades of coral savor the blood, Desiring to acquire the taste of dead daydreams, With the saccharine of never feeling alone. Let me consume another sip of blemished juice. Did your invitation get lost in the mail? I hand wrote your invitation, Ivory paper was hallooed by a downpour of lilac oil, A bit of my wrist was sliced open by raw amethyst as I prayed, Manifesting you’d come dressed in that striped jumpsuit, Your hair curled into a spiraling woodland of silk, Over and over again, I imagined your lips unfolding with concern,
