poem


Death asked me to join him for dinner

so I slipped into my favorite black dress that I had been saving for a special occasion

and let him walk me to our candlelit tryst.

He ordered a ribeye, extra rare

I ordered two desserts and red wine

and then I sipped and wondered

why he looked so familiar

and smelled like earth and memory.

He felt like a place both faraway and deep within my body

A place that whispers to me

on the crisp autumn breeze

along the liminal edges of dusk and dawn

somewhere between dancing and stillness.

He looked at me with the endless night sky in his eyes and asked

‘Did you live your life, my love?’

As I swirled my wine in its glass

I wondered If I understood the thread I wove into the greater fabric

If I loved in a way that was deep and freeing

If I let pain and grief carve me into something more grateful

If I made enough space to be in awe that flowers exist and take the time to watch the honeybees drink their sweet nectar

I wondered what the riddles of regret and longing had taught me

And if I realized just how beautiful and insignificant

and monstrous and small we are

for the brief moment that we are here

before we all melt back down

into ancestors of the land.

Death watched me lick buttercream from my fingers

As he leaned in close and said

‘My darling, it’s time.’

So I slipped my hand into his

as he slowly walked me home.

I took a deep breath as he leaned in close for the long kiss goodnight

and I felt a soft laugh leave my lips as his mouth met mine

because I never could resist a man

with the lust for my soul in his eyes

and a kiss that makes my heart stop.

~ Gina Puorro: www.ginapuorro.com

Author’s note: A playful love poem to Death, because I want to remember to relate to it as a part of life, and in ways that exist outside of violence and brutality.

[Photo: Kurt Markus]

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