What if we were grave-robbers
Digging up the decomposed and recently deceased:
Pilfering gold-capped teeth,
Enraptured beneath prominent cheekbones
And a skull cracked from frost heave,
That grinned back at us;
Lifting matrimony bands,
Engraved with professments
Of endearing, everlasting love,
Modeled over the rivets of brittle, scabrous fingers;
Swiping a ruby-studded necklace
Inhumed between grotty, shallow ribs
That gasp and complain
As you thrust your fist between them?
We would strike it rich.