be aware of beauty always
it is
the only thing really
that will save you and
its
unexpected moments
are what
life is
said someone else once and
forever
fleeting yes
like love which is
a lot like
sunburn
in some ways
(time’s fool, rosy cheeks)
but it’s dawn in Seville
and the birds in the orange trees that
line the streets
have started singing
the scent of citrus
that has lingered all night
signals surely there is
some hope
well
there is longing and
there is getting and
neither are much good
to anyone
the birds
unseen
are singing
one parrot among the sparrows
as i say
goodbye forever
girl in the long red coat
About the Creator
nathanael j
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Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis4 days ago in Humans
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