looking back from the moment of death, spiralling antimatter from the eyes Mar 22, 2022

(the tail)

the leaves from the trees
cut me to ribbons, falling head-first into a thousand pieces
and i wake up beneath a thousand barren trees
a million buds reflecting in two thousand eyes

if everyone dies, the moon would call us back tomorrow
i want to know who you are, child
you who put ribbons in your hair and carry budding branches
and touch my face and forget

being born comes with a great blood-thirst
(heads: you approach, tails: you recede)
the cool clear liquid-moon blood of life
step out with me into the black night

do you think that you can say the name of god?
my entire life i have been composing my death poem
i am nothing and everything, cut me to ribbons
i'm not going to stop you if you try

(the head)


looking back from the moment of death, spiralling antimatter from the eyes

linked from: the clay jug and the molten iron

all writing, chronological
next: the clay jug and the molten iron
previous: closing the gate after the horse has bolted