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Confetti of Flesh

Would I rather go too slow, Damp breath feeding the soil, worms to grow, an old mans toil. For me the answer is clear; Though not today and I hope not here – To explode with love and feelings gold – Not too young and not too old Wise enough to see my growth But not old enough to have outgrown My sprit, Fun, this place called home That’s how to die A confetti of flesh ruptures the Sky. Feeding the air, water and earth. Why you ask do I care how I die – My love, that is the whole reason - We’re here to ask why.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2010




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