by DjWhite

Created on: August 08, 2008

After I leave this lifelessness
and crash the home of worms
(along with other immaterial substances)
it'll be then sun and moon will dip
in luminous mourning.

They'll bleach these bones,
force them to weep in their
marrow, absorb pithy sighs,

sponge moans of eulogies,
make rock neighbors knock
hallelujah choruses, stretch
root congregations
until they speak in tongues.

It will be then, I'll reach
for sporangium's quilt,
neatly folded
among shifting faults,

and warm myself
when your pulverized
yesterdays get lonely and cold.

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