Day 70

yesterday when i died –

the black sky parted its lips

and said nothing.

what i hadn’t finished was my hellos.

and when that black sky refused to speak

and the eerie silence

made our insides tremble –

the everyday suffering people of the world

prayed for us.

they prayed for us.

it feels like there are less soft places

to land –

yet here we are –

living through our deaths

like the octopus.

a camouflage here –

hiding in a crack there.

i wonder how many arms we can live without?