And Then, The Beginning

we are all written backwards:
deaths first, births last.
mouths open, we inhale our promise like soil.
fingernails and skin shiver as the blood stream collapses.
bone by bone, we are unbuilt.
my empty skull turns sans spine and sinew,
and all that nothing rushes forth.
the only thing left, your body appearing,
both arms splayed through the ether.