Bury me in your subconscious.
Let the flesh rot, the papers burn,
the metals go rusty from unuse.
Molds will someday grow on those memories
covering those mementos with new life forms-
We cannot do something about it.
In time, none of us will remember
the names of our beloved lest
the way to that grove of apple trees
where we pinky swear to remain children forever.
Even the stars that were once witnesses
to our many promises will one day
combust and swallow worlds in their wake
leaving us all helpless in this void.
We cannot run into any safe place nor object-
all shrines will soon be desecrated. Instead,
scatter our dust. Let nothingness carry us
into another nothingness. We will all return to this primal state
of being. In dreams we will recognize each other
as faces that we always forget when we wake up.
Ghosts will continue to haunt as long as people feel
and legends will take on new forms as time
recycles itself into irreversible repetitions.


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