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Vows Intact

We sat
The survivors
In a tiny life-raft,
Bobbing
Among corpses
Us, not much more than
Corpses ourselves,
White-faced,
With our bruises
A precious testimony.
We huddled,
Telling stories.

I reached down
And my tiny raft
Broke from the crossbeam.
They cried in alarm
As currents widened
The breach.

"What ails you?" Cried they,
Squawking, tutting, prophesising
For, as I caressed a corpse
- "Unclean," "Too heavy" -
I thought I saw a twitch
And dragged him aboard.

They tried to reach me
But I was death's companion,
Breathing unclean air
Heavy and unwell.
I lay, side by side
And kissed cold stiff lips
Farewell,
Laughing at the self-deceit
Of my wedding day.

Alone, we floated
In silence.
No wings took flight
In humid skies
No ripples 
- Just flat horizons.

A forever later
The corpse is still on board
Breathing, talking, opinionated,
With ideas for our survival.
His existence 
Unforeseen
But now questioned less.
I think I might like it.

I think of corpses
Not yet really dead.