Death Becomes Her
One day death will come for you
You’ll recognize her without introduction,
She’ll have the prying eyes of your mother,
the nose of an old friend,
the lips of a forgotten lover.
She’ll speak to you softly,
Sharing secrets from slumber parties,
then the things you’ve only ever told drunken strangers,
if you’re lucky, she’ll say all the things you wish you did before it ended.
She takes her cold hands and wraps them around you,
Slowly, your tar-black lungs follow in her whisper,
Your birdsong heart becomes a murmur
The thoughts dancing through your head fall to the floor.
Finally you are nothing;
You are free.