The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive


it happened again, perhaps the ghost a few night ago
generated another weather event, ice pellets, not hail,
and then snow and blowing snow and wind and whiteout,
the blankness announcing and renouncing the deathspace
i head into, everything left behind, decathecting, the
world untethering, on my lips the words 'azure, i love
you,' and then the whiteness deepening and swallowing
into me, and then nothing or a slide and my chest
tightens, i am gone, my chest releases, azure remains,
i don't see what she sees, no longer hear her voice

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