reaching for my hand.
Sleeping in my soil bed I’ll see you,
stand and rise
singing my praise
to the light in your eyes,
the truest heaven I ever knew.
Though I be nothing but a pile of bones in a box
my brittle kneecaps will kneel and crack
as my spirit soars toward the constellation of Osiris.
The star of me will melt into light of you, and in the morning
our sun will rise new
bleeding fresh red
into a white sky picked clean like a carcass.
Death, where is your sting?
My love for you was the end of me, and now
slipping into the spiral of the never ending eye of God
that death was just another word for life.