I always thought meeting death would be like entering ocean waters.
Hitting the chill to cool down the body, bet it feels good.
I’d fall in head first, with my eyes closed to protect them,
mostly from the frightening existence of before.
Or after. Whichever comes first.
Easier to accept the earth to become a little darker in death,
Since the light exposes exactly what everyone hides from
Wishing the truth were to remain hidden in the black
clouds, and disappear when the storm clears.
You would think of everyone you’ve ever met, when you meet death
and hope that they too put their darkness in the clouds
And live only in a pure and perfect existence.

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