What a cool skull you have! The skeletons of the dead may meet and talk. How their bony bodies look beautiful without any flesh on them. They don’t have to worry about carbs and sugars, no treadmill needed.
My embedded bones under my skin, entails death since my birth. Pain and illness would be precursors. No one can be preapred for real dying, when it comes with a scythe in a black robe, or with a halo over long blonde hair in a white gown. Whatever it might be, the fact that it is in the realm of unknown leaves me in the dark, guessing wildly what that will be like.
I should caress my skull more often, or wear T-shirt with the grand skull design on the front print, to remember that death peeks at me from the bedroom door ajar and counts my every step. So I can savor each bite of morning bread, kind words received or given, floating over the waves of water, smell of fresh cut grass, warm hugs and sweet kisses, hot tears and broken limbs and heart, gaze down, and up, the moments that two sets of eyes met or looked away, first jump of kids, dogs, and fish, bike run and scraped knees, boiled hatred and fossils of anger, or sadness, one breath in, then out, those many times being a coward and shame after, a few times being brave shaking with all presence, those long strokes over my cheeks, over my heart, over my bare back, wind hung over the rooftop whirling up unsettling dreams, a quieting sound of the breath of a sleeping dog, the goodbyes that once lived close but now unreachable, being hungry, being ill, being in pain, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to say, sealing lips, closing the door, and opening again, letting in, letting out, letting go, closing eyes, opening hands, laughing together, sunshine, stars, the crescent moon, trippped by a life, collapsing at the corner, sipping the bitterness, embracing my shadow under light, standing up and moving my feet, to live.
I don’t know what’s next after this life, and there might be no next. No skeletons would joke about their dead days, just the remnant of remorse woes the unlived life in eternal nothingness, silencing their warning to the living, remember that you must die.
<May 31st, 2018>