This

 

So I’ll stand on this side of oblivion,
And I’ll have this.
Not a memory,
Not a lifetime made,
Not a whisper,
Not a kiss.

I’ll smile down onto that abyss,
Breathe deep,
And wish,
As existence melts away,
That words will echo,
Past all the un-made days.
That poetry will push,
Through flesh,

As song seeps through bones.
And lost and in love,
The words we make,
Will stretch out wanting hands,
Slide themselves through unknown lands
And bind themselves,
Coiled in embrace,
Flushed of face,
Entangled in everyone,
In everywhere.

For as I stand on this abyss,
And feel my limbs forgive,
Fell my misplaced will to live,
I’ll have this

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