You could have waited,
waited until I dried with encrusted maggot saliva.
It might have comforted this plant food
to gain the closure of a year in the ground.
For the love of all things sweet and salty,
give me time to bond with my earthy abode
before you go defiling my former one.
Lady Mock-Mercy says, "She would want you happy."
She's a cow.
I say you were happy even before you killed me.
Happy with her. At least grant me the pleasure of witnessing
the suffering caused by your guilty conscience.
Go, you coward! Leave me to wallow with my beetles,
they make much better company than you,
passing gossip between the three other graves before mine
where your previous lovers lie.
I never liked cockroaches, but now,
they don't look so bad.
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