Holy Card


Don’t put me in a coffin.
Much better to find a small box
for ancient gray ash that
could be Vesuvius or that
little dog I used to pet.
I want no more me,
no more memories
etched around empty eyes or
lonely hands that would’ve carried more,
so much more,
but were robbed by other death,
nearer loss and love that
still-chokes all earth.

No, burn me into nothing
for I endure no more.

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