Friendly pact with death (unfinished soliloquy)

The linen of your love, like a grandmother nobody wants to visit, lulls me when abruptly awakened. I hear your song, and know the notes it's always brought. Like playing a violin, and strumming on strings audible to the soul, you smiled when the lights were dim. To hush...I learned that from you, and am eternally grateful.

My dearest friend, we will go to the lights, and the shadows, where each one will be in utmost harmony. And like petals that will fall, I'll be reminded of our romance. Death, you will watch me when I'm unknowing of your vicinity. Meanwhile, I will be looking at the colors that I've ignored all along. The things I never wrote or said to you, will be revealed when I'm embraced by the soil, and am back in your often seemingly distant arms.

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By Anton Kozel, 2011 Poorman's