we’re all dying.
our mouths are fading from our faces.
fingertips wrinkle
when the skin of past lover is touched;
in memoriam.
twitching bodies at the end of gentle pads,
circular fingerprints like the rings of an oak tree;
like the rings of friends wedded to their friends.
all you take is the love you give.
we’re all dying.
under overcast sundays,
on streets wet with rain.
in the hospital room,
pushing a clone from the womb.
each heart beat,
every breath
closer to the bridge from this world to the next
and i feel fine.
