the opportunity to be immersed
in death, your death, to share with you.
I’ve often dreamed that in a room
with panorama windows and red flowers
there would be at least five of us
ready to go, not by their own volition
but by the edict of sheer Providence.
We’d die together, something quite akin
to noisy barbeques and get togethers
only this thing would be for good,
no backing out, no second thoughts.
But it was not to be my love, there was
well, ample opportunity and no restriction
but I was not allowed to take the step
to die with you because I was a goddamned chicken!

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