All Tomorrows

every tear and reminiscence a measure of the depth of narcisism for there is no afterlife and no god either except love which can only be real

it comes down at last like a storm of stones three years' worth of tears and fears and pain buckets-full of years grave-day loads of bones all is new & now, all old & then the bed the same but we're li'll nemo here with my unknown past on your tender shoulders you make me fly on up into us