Prior to the Afterlife
The ceiling sparkled;
I saw the big dipper, then the little one.
The painters needed a bigger tip for their creative execution.
Without a warning to prepare, a requiem played.
The symphony corned all aspects of a so-called classic; muffled screams, vulgar tongues and your tears –
Silence doesn’t come fast and
I begged for forgiveness and solidarity whilst connecting the dots of Orion.
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