First Edit: Death is Unmoved/The Cost of Tranquility

[billy]

hi richard. after reading it a few times i'm finding it hard to connect to the poem. what i'm reading feels like unconnected lines of poetry. i think it needs more depth and better access to see what's going on. i see what it's about but it doesn't move me. sorry mate.

Death Is Unmoved

Hands folded, calmest they've ever been.
That dead man's wife waits,
her eyes ruined long before the funeral.
Priest listlessly sprinkles dirt
on a coffin paid for years ago.
That night, dark as any other,
drunk kisses adorn a black dress,
her repeated, “oh god,” in the backseat,
the truest prayer between two people.

I've been working on this one for weeks now. This is probably my third edit so far. It still doesn't seem right, so feel free to rip this one apart.