Each Life Is One Short Word Slowly

Your Life Feels Different On You, Once You Greet Death And Understand Your Heart's Position.

I Tried Out The Unfamiliar Syllables. They Fit. They Cracked In My Ears Like A Fist Through Ice.

If, As I Suspect, My Body Survives By Uttering Itself Over And Over Again, Then I Have Some Questions. If [i] Am One Word, So Are My Daughters, So Are All Of Us In Strings And Loops. Each Life Is One Short Word Slowly Uttered.

I Was In Love With The Whole World And All That Lived In Its Rainy Arms.

So What Is Wild? What Is Wilderness? What Are Dreams But An Internal Wilderness And What Is Desire But A Wildness Of The Soul?