Come die with me--fly to a livelier plain,
ride love-thick moonbeam, dance above dull-footed rain.
Husk and chaff that kept us dumbsafe piles in numb ground;
dawn to dusk we'll chat yawning dust, speaking without sound
in ritual signals to free-range fantasizing minds
unable in their passing to realize: they're next in line.
End the seconds-guessing, stressful hours withering slow:
loss of breath is life not death, a necessary follow.
Worlds like grains drift unexplained in a dark ouroboros breeze
as light-framed rows unearth what they know, repeating infinity.
We wind-spread seeds harvest to be in a believer's field of stars
and in daybright eyes yield what we were, for what they are.
Non-Exist
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