Sometimes I think of you returning

Sometimes I dream of you returning,
The dim lights flaring
And I see again a human face,
Not the fossil that embraces
The emptiness , staring
Into the black hole beyond the event horizon
Where nothing will return.

Yet I am bound by our gravities
To see this through.
To play the charade of talking to the dead
This monstrous thing that’s living still
Where there is nothing but the eulogy

How I wish for you the cold embrace
Of the silent tomb
Where we can grieve together face to face.


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