I suppose death is something
our bones are born knowing, and
no matter how much you truly love yourself,
it's a secret they will never tell your heart.
And I guess time is best measured
by the length of my hair-
and while the body
of such immense invisibility is
so very infinite,
I can count the days quite accurately
by the names
of every lover still hiding in there.
And I think that all of this is somewhat
a useless nonsense-
but it's beautiful because
it's all we have.
One day while we wait in line at a coffee shop,
the world will end- or maybe
I'll just assume it's the world when actually
it'll just be my sails empty of wind,
and the beating in my chest replaced
with a a sign that reads: 'no vacancy' -
On that day,
at that very moment,
if the world has not slipped away
into the second circle of Dante's hell,
let it remember it was you I loved the most.
Amberlee Carter
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/slanting-into-light/
