MORTALITY

Mortality deploys its wisdom that seeps into headstones that keep names from vanishing and memories more duct taped to the stiletto heels of Time- knicking the turf of our tombs by the light of bonfires, gasping at the actual Living as it rains an ungathering of features, leaving us squinting at Love and sock puppets in the navel of our corduroy ravens, sleeping less dismal in flight like little bandits, soaring in the Treasure Invisible. With naughty eyes, coveting Eternity. To spite the Truth.