My last dance will be an inspiration
Hands to hands tightly intertwined
Music deeper than any revelation
And all done to in my own time

My last meal will be very delicious
Sampling a bit of all of my favorite things
And being my last need not be nutritious
Humming with flavor cause you know it makes me sing

My last slumber will be the deepest I’ve known
Dreams will no longer come at all
My essence thus departed receding from how I’ve grown
So there will be no me left to recall

My last conversation will never be my last
Though my bodies may fade
Becoming only an echoe in the past
My words will remain to be remade

Revisited over and over again
It may not be immortality
But it is as close as I can come my friend
Words etched in the collective unconscious
Until humanity ends

writing a poem of love
is accepting
new words
for the piece
you've written down
at the back of a
tissue paper
in the cafe
where you first
met.