the sense of death

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If I where blind;
What would I know?
Of the sapphires gems
That replace your eyes?
Or of the breathtaking ivory
Your skin possesses?

If I where death;
What would I know?
Of the bass bells
That replace your laughter?
Or of the chillingly beautiful sound that your voice is?

If I could not smell;
What would I know?
Of the fragrance of chrysanthemums and embalming
That lingers within you?

If I could not taste;
What would I know?
Of the ever so sweet taste
You kiss can give?
Of the ever so sour one
It can give while you anger?

If I could not feel;
What would I know?
Of the painful touch you hand can give?
Or the compassionate magnanimous ease of pain
That the same touch can?

If I could not remember;
How would I?
As handsome, as easy, as peaceful
As you can be,
That it is not always so?

If I could not;
How would I know?
Because I know I would.
How would I feel it?

The voice replied;
“The sense of death.”





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