Do you have any last wish?
And as I remembered the magnolias from my childhood street, it felt like I was dying. Not the cessation of the exchange of air with the atmosphere. But the cessation of the exchange of dreams with the universe.
She has a Kevlar shield of art
Around her once-hurt heart
She can be touched. And also by none
She can be loved. Only by the sun
There’s a celebration. My memories tell me
Happiness infestation. The cat will bell me
But that’s my problem. Which she’ll never tell me
My purpose calls. My heart will sell me
Swinging between the ends. Of a one-way street
I go in. But I have to learn about ‘defeat’
Halfway ready. All the way in
That’s me, as I die. Love - that schoolboy sin
And as I die, I am born
Dead eyes. But no longer torn
Purpose IS the love - the wind sings to me
My sword and my mask - Destiny brings to me
But I am no hero. I scream into the breeze
You don’t get to choose. Your heart you must freeze
The wind whispers back. Soft but very clear
Books and hair clips. Build your mausoleum here
And that’s how it is. The way of things
The fire and the moth. The clarity that burning brings
So that’s how it is. And the gods may laugh
As they read what I died for. Written on my epitaph
"No heroes. No glory
No more a higher story
Than the beautiful mess
That's our everyday-ness”
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