Goodbye

Breath out, to calm the heart. Breath in, the foul stench of death, it sticks to my nostrils, fills my lungs, engulfs me. The body lies, still, not noticing the waves lapping at its side. Putrid. The smell is horrible. The face is looking up, eyes unseeing. They bore into your eyes, into your mind, into your heart. Did you love him?
Wet. Everything is wet.  And sticky. Wet and sticky. Like a childrens chant. Wet and sticky, wet and sticky. Still it refuses to notice, the poeple, the watchers, the onlookers. The ones who find it...interesting...to have a body here, a body that won't do anything, a body that won't move. Just a body, a plain, simple, rotting body. Why?
The skin is blue. It's fascinating. It matches his shirt. A shirt that covers a bloated body...(Did you listen?)... a body that no longer speaks from its mouth, but a body that speaks from within. To your mind. To form pictures, and to haunt your dreams. A body that has completed its purpose in life, and now... now it's leaving, it's wasting away, it's moving on. Goodbye.