“I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory.” —Hamilton
there are too many crows outside my home. which means:
there is a crow outside my home.
a beloved old lady once told me,
“crows are the harbingers of guests.”
i imagine death outside my door, knocking
on the wood. i imagine death and i
knock on wood. i imagine death
as Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Pt.1:
three shadows in robes and smoke
crossing a bridge. the only one who survives
does not see death. the only one
who sees death survives. i imagine death
as a guest.
how do we see death if not as a memory?
who do you see when you see death?