age against age as the clock
carries
time and eternity closer
together—and
our choices grow
weightier
as the seconds slip
into
a past that ran red with grace, and holy
lips press against a ram’s horn.
this life isn’t as solid
as you think it is,
and it
matters less and more
than you
know. the crash is ordered and
waiting,
sweet as honey until
it hits your stomach.
Life
isn’t about living, and eternity
is not a metaphor.
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