O it’s so fine to Get Up from resting a night
upon her white bossom!
— of her now dead but once beating heart.
Yesterdays i do remember when the sun came up
and tomorrow’s were yesterday’s thoughts. Oh I
grieve now(with romantic phrasing that could never
ever capture that moment of pure love) death is not living
but death surely is remembering.
AND how angels stretch
their undying necks/ remembering what mortals call moments.
cosmic love giggles.
But i am still unborn. Less than a fetus of cosmic life.
Today is a long memory from birth to now. And I have learned
very little.
Forgive me.
:: 09.15.2021 ::