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Friday, February 26, 2010

Daniel (1982. rev. 29.vii.87)

Death is too simple to be believed.
A brief block to your air-supply,
and there you were: still warm,
unmarked, so beautiful, so dead.

Later, so cold, so calm, a placid
smile upon your pale, pale face,
and when I hugged you, such a deadly
sigh that whistled from your useless lungs.

The crumbled clay uncrumbles now,
and settles on the small white box
that holds a part of you, and all of me.
Oh, Daniel, Daniel, Daniel!

If love could make you live,
you'd live forever.

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