surrender your life
and your life
will never end.
Now, we know better
than to let the feckless
speak for us.
We have leapt into being
like the tip
on a match,
taken back
the present tense,
and perished
the thought of living
forever.
I don't know how I should
feel about this yet,
says the militant head
at the tip of my neck.
Or—I don't want to go.
Or—let me say that again.
I trust this oracle's
intimations are correct
though no part of me as yet
can say how.