Treasure Island

Mark Heathcote

(22/03/66 / Manchester)

Death is all of this?


Death should be a gesture
of what kills and fulfills
a craving that raves - singing
hymns - where silence—
reigns in peace:
death - death is a bruised apple
before its had the time to be eaten:
it is that piece of white-soda bread
where the first specks of mold
say I’m not fit for slicing—
yes death is a dog whose howls
reverberations only bring it
another and another’s beatings
but within its beatings it forgives
its masters torment: there it lolls
at his feet barking excitement
wagging at his exonerated laughter
yes Lord Master death is all of this?
—unburdened death is our second bliss
a blush of dew a red petal a trinity
falling rising anew—upon
some well kissed censored lips
a fragrance bottled of every perfume oil
rent of life - persevered
in a deathless odor
fallen - we too are vaporized
within a dewdrops gesture
we are that first blush of spring
deaths wedding band ring
worn on the fourth finger
death is our bridegroom - he is
our one life partner
Father son and Holy Ghost!

Submitted: Monday, April 29, 2013
Edited: Friday, September 20, 2013

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