Snicker

 
On the journey to the center of my urn

Perhaps a lifetime of fine burning energy will ensure this container to be golden

How loudly to thrash?

Before swelling into the ripples of irrelevance

Still.


At perfect peace of being forgotten

Frayed end in a string of memories


I am pleased

Should death come tomorrow

Find me wearing a smile as the light is draining from my eyeballs

In warm comfort of the knowledge

That I drank from your kissing,

Indulgently

As though each of our seconds together

Bore the flat corpse of a bitten grape