When Space for Existence Becomes the Only In-between in The After Life

 

The movement of water

like ice in my bones

lies beneath the lid of your eyes

stagnant water

melts the pines

needles coarse

he says, “we don’t have time”

he says, “why can’t it be simple”

I’m complicated

like a bird

I float like water

stagnant in breath

moving in motion

matter

Ravens are birds, blind in soul

they fly over me

above me

below me

watchful

I’m a bird

A rabbit

A swollen chord

directions to no where

I’m a bird

you’re a raven

I fly

that’s the only reason why

 

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