Until The Mouths Are Closed

I stopped fearing death a little too old

I started loving death a little too young

I started fearing death again a little too suddenly

when it came misting in under my door

when it poured upwards from the mouths of friends

when it beckoned me to dance a cold lover’s close steps

a dare to bid for the lives of the weak

slowly, tightly, slower, tighter

the embrace cannot be broken now

It must wait until the mouths are closed

it must wait until we do not build doors anymore

it must wait until we cannot bear to write of the dead anymore

Will I stagger the black corridor

or walk it calmly?

Will I hold the speaking torch

or will I have cursed it and doused it

for showing me at last

how true death is?

Will I close my eyes

and keep staggering

like I have my whole life

Or will death fear me?

Having swallowed the torch

and become a walking ember amidst the mist

Will I trust that death is a lie?

and that love and death and rebirth and fire

have long overcome it

I will

if I can swallow the torch

–

5/8/20