My lover’s got a humor, she’s the giggle at a funeral…
Personality so contradicting, you gasp a giggle to believe, while you lose a piece of you in awe, like the ghost of the soul at a funeral above the coffin; that we imagine is looming on us; and how we take the weight in hearts as that of the looming ghost wishing it to convolve into some sort of solace. Or maybe the giggle is a way to escape the hefty grimness that follows, such is my lover ; that transformative giggle for me.
