Memories of him

[ISawASpaceship]

I am struggling with the flow in this poem. My personal feeling is that some of the lines are stilted. Please let me know your thoughts.

Incense drifts through the air
like a scented cloud
hoping to quell the grief in the room.

Their words are jumbled.
Murmurs of pity and shock, and
the occasional stab at empathy.
Words reel like wires, criss crossing
until they stitch a safety net
over the pain, still infant, resting
in a quiet stupor until a sudden memory
pries its lips open.

His photograph looms over the incense sticks.
The flowers around his garland*** are still fresh, virginal,
like the wound.
His smile is rapturous as ever,
stirring memories of
our wedding day.

Rings of smoke from the pyre
mingled with tender jasmine
as i glanced sidelong at him, finding the 
corners of his mouth tilt,
erupting into a smile. (I think this is the only bit I'd change. I'd personally like to see "as they erupted into a smile", instead. That's just my preference though.)
Waves of conversation, undulating,
faded into the background
as he curled his fingers over my chin, damp with tears.
The tears flowed like rivers of ecstasy,
soaking his palm as he looked at me,
eyes softened, reaching over
to wipe my cheek.

The murmurs die slowly
as still silence pervades the room.
I hold his lifeless hand over my warm cheek,
soaked in tears
from the memory, still fresh. (Heartbreaking and yet, immensely beautiful picture. I might actually be in tears in a moment if I think about it too much. My heart hurts now. Very well-written last stanza.)

***Flower garlands around a deceased person's photograph tend to be a custom at Indian funerals