To The Innermost Edge

the last facet of contentment. Pic.: of Göteborg’s harbour, my own

 

Living below the edge,
I enjoy free movement in compliant air,
pushing upwards to swallow bubbles.

Dying below the edge,
I am an object filling space on resistant base,
pushing downwards involuntarily.

Soon, I’ll push outwards in countless edges;
hungry maggots will tear me cell from cell
and convey me far afield on cellulose wings.

Only my bones will remain,
hard edges, still and clean;
eye sockets twinkling with water,

long gumless teeth in fallen jaw,
laughing, as only skulls can do,
revealing even now,
 
to the innermost edge,
this man
enjoyed being human.
 
 
 
 
Goth:2021

We, the active, can only plod on, submit work, comment when you realise feedback is a two-way courtesy, hope a few registered members return, hope some of today’s English-speaking people join after becoming aware of the social and mental benefits of small community writing, and that, fundementally, this long-standing site survives!
With more contributing, the less the focus will be on the few, keeping the site work-centered, not person-centered!

 

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