Ever and After

A dead world grew his flesh. Another world, one not yet born, is even now digging his grave. Cancer, that coat with reversible linings, gnawed at him like a hungry dog. This man, he knows his birthright, this guy, once removed from death, fills pages, traps fleeting thoughts with fiddlesticks and thumbs, but that's not important. One second stretched to a mile, that is important. Shoes that walk to the end most important of all. So, he writes about his fingerbones. as they count the days before and after him.