the idea that you
will be the last one for me
shakes me.
it is not necessarily
a bad shaking. more like the shiver
they say you feel
when someone walks over your grave.
that’s not a bad thing. it just
is. it’s part of a supernatural
underground life i lead — while
the daily things are happening
as they always do,
the existence
i never understood
is ending.
i wonder sometimes if you know
that you’ve led me to feel
my own mortality in a glance from you,
your dear face a memento mori
reminding me not to waste time.
there is loveliness in knowing
i am doomed. I know from looking at you
that love is as much a resignation
as it is a struggle.
i’m walking toward you now,
over the ground that promises to swallow us.
no matter; forever is a dark and fertile place.
Dark Matter 
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