Bridge

This is it.
It’s enough.
This bathtub
this music
this time I have left
to feel something warm
and pleasant
surrounding me
before I become lost
in the watery ambiguity
of what is dry and cold
and eternal.

Water is the bridge
between life and death—
it’s in the womb
before the light appears
and it’s the sloshing
disorientation
after it fades.

Faced with death,
it isn’t the end
that makes me sad
as much as the desperate way
believers beg for an extension
and pray in earnest
to gods who know nothing
of warmth or music
or mercy
or what it’s like
to have laughed and loved
or existed at all.

 

DeMaris Gaunt
3-27-15

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