Somber stillness settles like silk Bedsheets overstretched on the yard. Next to me, your rocking chair creaks The tally; and I am leaking Out of swollen eyes, and my breath Expels heavy clouds, losing heat. I cannot look up, but I see In the splinters a chasm grown. If only you would lay on me, Our bodies could burn. I know it. Cremation as liberation; And we would outlast our sun. Do you suppose you might want to? Lie with me and kindle the stars?
4w