Death Reacquaints Us

He asked me not to die

Before he could get back to loving me,

Yet eighty years have gone by,

And now I am old and gray.

Skin dry as paper,

Breath a struggled rasp;

I do not know where you are-

Alive or dead.

I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.

Now I leave this Earthen place,

And become free in this vast Universe.

I will be in love with you soon,

When death reacquaints us.

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