I thought about making you into a mannequin,

then instantly died.

At the pearly gates, Athena said, 

“I’ll give you another chance; 

I know why you thought that,

you wanted to preserve 

forever your lover’s beauty, 

but only a fool 

thinks that way.

Beauty is internal 

and eternal,

and shines

like all your precious, sweet, souls.”

So poof, there I went,

back into my lifeless body.

When I got up 

I wanted to call you and tell you at least one

Greek goddess was still living,

but since you’re such a militant monotheist,

and frown unapologetically on polytheists, I didn’t. 

I waited until we were together that night,

and when I was at the bar pouring you a glass

of your favorite Jean-Claude Boisset Pinot Noir,

I said, 

“I really don’t care about growing 

old with you,

beauty is internal 

and eternal,

and shines

like your precious, sweet, soul.”

And wham,

you threw the popcorn bowl at me

and yelled, 

“You bastard,

 who are you fucking.”  



David Calogero Centorbi is a writer living in Detroit, MI. Recently published work in The Daily Drunk, Dreams Walking, Versification, Brown Bag Online, Horror Sleaze Trash, Anti-Heroin Chic, Crow Name, and Crepe & Pen. He can be found here on Twitter: @DavidCaCentorbi.