Parallels
When I was burdened by the heaviness of youth
and romanced death with each passing breath,
I sat among gravestones on the full moon
and discovered the cool peace of silence
So many nights spent with candles and incense
and the quiet whispers of the dead,
slowly understanding that the welcoming earth
answers all the questions posed by the womb
Years later a teacher suggested I seek impermanence
through contemplating death, that I sit
among the dead for a night meditating on decay
and the inevitable crumbling of bone
When I laughed the teacher made me explain
how I associate cemeteries with red wine,
The Cure, and a fragile young woman who thought death
was all the reason she needed to make love with me
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