your needle tongue
pierce my skin and lips
and steal life from me.
There!
My final exhale,
a soft whisper,
your name
because it has always been you,
even when I wasn't sure,
pretended I didn't know.
The last thing I know is death,
a cold breeze that sweeps
my broken bones away,
and then I sense my awakening,
feel my body regaining shape,
straining to reassemble.
Before my eyes I see them,
our coming days, a collage
of blood and running wild,
feeding and winter picnics,
graveyard family reunions.
I never believed in afterlife
until I saw it for myself.
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