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
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 -
to ask why.
Copyright © Confetti of Flesh | Year Posted 2010
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