before you were born
the years stretched into the past
it was a world without you

empires rose
they thought they’d last forever

they did not

the slowness of time
is an illusion

we are on a rocket
destination: not being here

perhaps this awareness
of your imminent demise
might change the nature
of your preoccupations

perhaps this awareness
might make you ask yourself
exactly what length of time it is
that you have the audacity
to expect to be remembered

perhaps this awareness
might make you recalibrate
exactly how much pain and suffering
you hope will be felt
by those left briefly standing
on the day you are not

it might allow you
to let go the grudge
that pulls you down

it might give you permission
to surrender
to your affections

it might let you relax a minute
let you take strange joy
in this moment you breathe in

when you see the world
that will rejoin itself
that will become once again
as it always was before

a world without you

_________________
Don’t ever tell Bob Hudson he’s handsome. Just don’t.

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