moartea finala

all above, the sky-blue sky,
and underneath, clouds underlie,
grey and mottled, patched and patterned
found words fail, flawed labels flail
then language is discarded

palms down, small hands hover,
burdened by air, buoyed by water
resigned to remain agnostic
gambling on the hinge over the lock
each vessel knowing only what it touches

an un-dented mind directs small, fastidious hands
castaway stones are re-gathered together
pockets sag under manifest density
atoms come to loosely vibrate with their neighbors
before their nuclear motivation fizzles

pancake water, here to the vanishing
the horizon embraces fire over ice
air over hovers with rapt indifference
while the current under persuades depth
when one portal martyrs to permission the other

moartea finala, another sunset passes