I Vow

When respiration
is impeached from being
the emblem of living,
waves its white flag
on breathless day,
or more boldly,
its letter of resignation
as its
“Declaration of Independence”
against I.

When this
pulse betrays rhythm,
renege its will to beat,
be the phantom
‘neath corpsman’s hands,
as these bloodless canals become
death beds
for unfulfilled dreams
and wish-less shooting stars;
litter my veins
with dying aspirations,
ignite them and behold
the mirage
of the me you’ve forgotten.

Promise me,
as my tear-perched lashes
batter back the ashes
of this setback,
do not coalesce
into the cadence
of this requiem.
Be found,
as a grace note
in this despondency.
Remember,
that we lived
and loved abundantly.

Promise me,
when Death comes
to confirm my expiration date,
that you won’t bargain
for belated timestamps,
for the wine of my life
is ripe for the occasion.

Say death
is like the Prime Meridian,
an imaginary line that
doesn’t take much courage
to cross;
so auction off
this solicitude
to indelible reminiscence,
this absence
to acquiescence,
coffin
this grave moment,
live
twice as potent,
and love
like cinched souls
made whole.

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