Six : Eight
I have these thoughts
& My phone is going to die
They’re on hold for the time
So I’ll hold them
Close
Taking a deep breath every time you walk by
Breathing you in
Drinking deep from the wellspring
Holding on
As tightly as I would your scruffy face
My fingers through your hair
Just as if I was there
Standing tall at the altar
Flowers in my locks, singing in key
Immortalized in action
His threshold pushes the bounds
Of Hades’ fire
Let it burn
I pray at the river for the will to live
Long enough to see your face
We meet head to head
Headstrong I am
Head first I dive in
Heeding no warning
Yielding to no sign
The ferryman reaches out
Entwining my fingers
Circling
My palm marred
By the lemniscate
A promise to return
My punishment
Is wish fulfillment
I am granted safe passage
Providing my two cents as the fare
Soul contracted
Contracting the sleeping sickness
The cause
Is the cure
He whispers
‘semper vincit mortem’
As I step off the ferry
Knowing
My ears
Hollow as reeds in the wind
Obedient to his command
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