A nothing from nowhere cast his words to a world wide wind, hindered by periphery. |
I would die with you now, alone. You throw your golden hair through this shared space. Me, incapacitated, cannot fully glance in my immunocompromised state -- that you couldn't possibly know how little I have left to live. But, I drink in your bared, sun-glorified skin -- hold tightly to a vision: the torso and one strong hand to lead, locked in our tango stance, dreaming dip, dip, dip me! from red lips. Our love echoes through unlit hours, before my frost finally arrives. And even if I didn't know I was dying, I would lie with you in your deathbed, enwrapped in my arms, synchronizing two hearts linked to the coming disaster -- that beauty in this life never lasts, but fades and crumbles into the dust that raises up another. In my chronic chair of conformity, I peek as those tresses fall to meet the arched back, black-tight leotard easily revealing form I long lock adjacent to a wretched husk of humanity, the withering, expiring skin, to lock eyes throughout each night and every dawn, sung by a throng of worshippers, who had a fraction of what we could have had, if not divided by a generational tide. And ignorance that an old man can still appreciate a figure publicly displayed, re-inspiring utopian dreams that could never materialize, or conceivably form because we're all dying, honey, and you should know that. Don't live like you're dead, like me, but don't hate me because you're beautiful. 9.3/26.21 Reconsidered to make edits. One last look later. sort of a response poem "⭐ Elegy" |