Passing doors and broken, smiling faces

until the sense that I’ve been here before

sets fire to the threshold

and draws me on my hands and knees

crawling back to taste anything as sweet

as what strange waters found me here last

and set me afloat on tides drifting to the sun

Chasing light with fists full of darkness

and eyes burning with the last fleeting glimpse

of something like paradise

where in light beyond a doorway in shadow

waits a final communion with the reaper of my soul

—

—

Happy Day of the Dead!

—

—

Photo by Dima Pechurin on Unsplash