Dreams woke me up from nonexistence, as they always do,
By announcing themselves as dreams or by announcing themselves
As the world. My self was pulled together again, a sense
Of continuity, as if nothing had happened since I went to sleep
When in fact nothing had. The only reason to be sentimental
About last days alive, last days of any experience, is the mythic
Sense we will be wanting to review those last things and maybe
Do them again once we can't. This rarely is the case, even living.
How many last times have you had you've never once revisited
Or so much as identified later in mind? And the real last day,
Whenever it is, is never to be revisited, never lasts.
No comments:
Post a Comment