Death is just a circus trick

Quit trying to make me giggle. Rest easy. Hold it. There now. Be each of you the quilt and pillow you were meant to be. Slow your birdie breathing. Unknot those wondrous fine. Slack, friends. Slack. Feel the stone beneath brace us up with steady hands. Nestle, friends. Plume ever so closely into one another. And imagine them, you impossible things. How they too will see and wish to play opossum, each and together. How even the oldest undertaker will marvel at the peace in our eyes. How like a feathered column of deadly grace we are. Well-arched, little finch. Well-spooned, grosbeak. Grackle, you inspire as a foundation, oily friend. Such rotting good claws at the base of this fine pyramid! Steady, friends. Good. Oh, that is fine. Now, yes, now, let thrum your heartbeats until you can, as I promised, forget the sky.