The Guest

Death does not come as a thief in the night, but as an invited guest.
But don’t expect an RSVP.
At the appointed time, bring out the finest linen,
set the table,
uncork the wine,
wait in your Sunday best.
She arrives as a past lover.
Lips of cherry red,
eyes of flaming ember,
hair of silk and honey.
The angel embraces you and smiles.
She knows you better than you know thyself.
You serve the wine,
and suddenly realize, you have never felt a connection so deep.
Embrace the feeling.
She asks what you want to do,
who you want to see.
Your answer –
Just you.
She puts down her glass,
leans in,
and kisses you.
A kiss like you’ve never had,
like you’ve never thought possible.
A chorus of angels start to sing, and you are transported. 
Do not cry for past friends.
Do not cry for past lovers.
Do not cry for yourself.
You now have all that you need.
And ever will.
Cry instead for those whom the guest will not visit,
for they are truly cursed.
Death does not come as a thief in the night, but as an invited guest.
But don’t expect an RSVP.