I forgot about the tranquility
of the universe,
the proportions of cosmic stillness
have no room in this bubble I think is me.
I am tired of running from silence,
I want to taste every touch,
and listen to the story of every scent.
I want to live the death of every soul
that journeyed forth before me.
What is it about the wake of death
that slows down time?
What glimpse of the eternal
is revealed before the soul
shuddering,
takes that step without feet?
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