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breeannaksmith

Message From the Dead

I didn’t just walk through the graves


I danced in between spaces

Like they do between realms


I flirted back to them as they teased me

Peaking through

The swaying Spanish moss


They reached through the concrete

for my fingers

As mine trailed across the lichen stricken stones


I took my time as I took them in

Like they do

where time doesn’t exist


I read their names out loud

Like past lovers and friends


My chin tilted low in respect to those below

Then craned upwards in awe

Maybe terror

Maybe both

Towards the statues of angels

Stricken with sorrow to look down upon me


I have returned home for some time

Yet they have followed me to my dreams


The woman in the mirror

Whose back is alive and of this earth

Whose front looks at you as a skeleton on the other side


Keeps coming to me with this message:


“With the tongue that still exists in your mouth,

Say our names so we remember who we are


With the meat that still remains on your bones

Give us flesh where ours is no longer


Where the box in your throat still carries a tune

Sing our stories so we may be of song

With your pen as the shovel

Dig up our lives that get to live on

Like the soil

Birthing new life

With every season


For if we came from stardust,

Before we become it again,

Share our names,

Our stories,

So although our hearts have stopped pumping

Our legacy beats on

Until the last burning star

Takes it’s final breath

And ashes to ashes

Dust to dust

We all take our final breath once more.”

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