He says it,
she says it:
“if I die…”
As if
it might not happen.
As if
an individual
could change
the definition
of a life:
that it inevitably
begins,
progresses,
and ends. That
it is not
static. That
we can see
a closure,
that no matter how blind
we can see
a closure.
“If I die…” There’s
failed magic
in those words.
Fingers crossed,
then broken.
A rabbit foot
that dances away.
A hope that something
blasphemous
will happen.
Dark Matter 
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