Now I know what dying is like.
A stream of air caressed my lips
rushing towards eternity.
Fingers stretched out
as white as tile
as I float an inch above the rest
and turn to ask,
where am I going?
Am I still here?
I drop back down to earth,
my knees most prayerful
before I stretch out to rest.
I look in the mirror. Still standing.
Undone, done. So ends the world.
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