I.
Morality is water
which we hold
not in the tumbler within our heads
but in the palms of our hands
II.
I stare at the dead moth
on my window sill
its short, banal life and nothing after
neither heaven nor hell
should I bury it?
III.
Never pour wine to the babbler
she is but a traitor
and screams your secrets
into the air
IV.
Life, as long as it flickers
also melts the skin
and yet I cannot
blow the flame out
V.
In death, we rise not out of our bodies
but collapse within our skins
as softly as a dead leaf falls
making no sound in the universe
Poem by Val Mickey.
Illustration by Ashraya Maria.
Article 19 