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#spotify / Elevators / Sky Burial Monologue
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death spoke in a swimming pool in late june:
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for this earth is not
a destiny of silence
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I may be the shadow that I am, but I only ever loved you.
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...to know they are not alone
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I may be the shadow that I am, but I only ever loved you.
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Where am I? The void between life and death. The light at the end is flickering, not as bright nor as strong as I’d hope it would be.
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the beeps, rhythmic,
tell us that you're still with us
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We passed a dead cat lying up against a guard rail, its fur stringing and wet and exposing its bloated skin which had a purple tint to it. Not my work, Death said, smoke trickling out of one eye socket.
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children love to push the gas up and down my limbs
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The spirit smiled and held out his hand, the light in the room magnified and he brushed past the books and the thoughts still hanging in the small alcove, " You are ready now.
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Feathers littered the ground beneath the sycamore, glossy black ones, short one and long.
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Heartbeat sped as heart size shrank to a ribcage of hollow bones. The curlew’s cry froze over the open bog and morphed to the trill of the river-bird.
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Across her chest a tapestry of wires interconnected.
Intensive.
Care From Old English—to lament.
Unit.
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We lined up opposite one another, instructed to stare into the other person's eyes for fifteen seconds. No talking. The debris of loneliness. Eyes welled with tears.
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