5.25.21

​

The end of my universe

will be unexpected.

I'll be dipping in fingers

making pictures in the water.

They expand and contract.

Too afraid of sudden collapse.

 A run to the market could

end with a charming first date

with a thick truck grill.

Before the first date with

my potential new love.

I lay down, quite run over,

seeking the acceptance

to be the end of me.

The end of times of me consist

in tons of fallen trees.

All crisscrossed together like

how my brains will look from

the view above when I'm good, 

dead and squooshed.

My piece of the universe ends here.

My spirit may live.

My spirit may transcend.

To the universe ahead.