Self-Portrait as the Afterlife
Listening to songs along the riverfront
no shoes, manicured yards, nothing to ail
a vessel filled with prospects
one sheet of color vibrates across the skyline
an agent of the existential
anonymous in the chamber of previous lives
an instrument of music focuses
on preserving praise
in blue light, jewels, and satin
a lively shot-glass witness to self-portraits
shining down the avenue
there is no judgment
clouds evaporate under footfalls
flames illuminate troubled waters
with no thought for the scars of tomorrow
new souls lay bare
then permanently disappear
scavenging for any oppressing memories
death is this kiss, this pose
this dance to the rhythm of thunder
skipping graceful stones across the lake
think of all the beautiful possibilities
ornaments with no past
no hardness, no fleeting words
all are ours to behold
