Death is the road
less travelled
till it becomes
the journey
we all share


I am holding your fingers
up to the sun
trying to see truth
through the skin.


I am holding your truth
against my skin
trying to see
where we might
turn away
from the rumpled one way ticket
clutched in your sweet hand


The pendulum
on the clock
refuses to move
still time
still momentary clarity
stillness
in the unsound
we make in our lives


I caught you
surreptitiously
eating farewells
on the stairs
and asked for a slice


We share
burgeoning mortality
from differing dimensions
pushing against
the membrane between and within


never breaking through
but seeing
just the blurred definition
where once


we were so clear.