Poem: After Death
There is no need to cry heavy tears,
to perch on the ground in front of my gravestone,
for I shall not know if you wear my favorite necklace.
It is good enough for you to think of me
at night in your king size bed,
nothing can stop the meaning of our vitality,
not even another that might comfort you.
Not one scripture will be read with bowed head,
the priest not knowing my name or my face
in the ample light of numerous days.
Though there are much worse ways to perish,
dragged to my final resting place with no observers,
such is a blessing to be rid of this way,
and you are the only one to know what it meant.
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