to all those whom this may concern:
and indifferent news of such.
one cannot lose touch
for the day after this,
the eleventh day of the eleventh month..
an honourary routine ,
marking my age...
my life has thus shortened by one year.
and yet i feel
as if i were dying right now
my faint pulse skips its eleventh beat
my lungs draw no air from my eleventh breath
and all those around me look at me and stare
a cold needle pricks my fragile hand..
i walk with him and his sickle..
so far
so long
into
the void.........
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