die daily

eyes open to a skyline of tension.
The big kind, bordered on each side
by angst, bliss, delusion, and all-out
annihilation. Stillness, with the kinetic
energy of the kind of chaos that makes and  
breaks everything at once. The grinding day
through dailies have muted the flags bleeding.
 
I know that this is my last day to live,
because the fork of her tongue leapt up
from the inside of my lowest intestines  
to the trap door of fossilized fiber optics
laid in the hardened amber of laughter-crack
ed skull. Speak easy she says. Speak easy she
 
says. Your feet will be in mud, as my showers
quench the sun blanched dirt. Your friends have
not forgotten you, they and their mud dance festive
right next to you. Lose these words and speak easy
she says, when your face is wrestling between smile
and crying, look up and know that I have always loved
you.