Lei it fall

I have held the line for twenty years. I have answered every letter, every war. My hands have signed the death of men I knew. My hands have also written -love the more. The body thins. The fever comes at night. The doctors speak in careful, empty tones. I hear them. I am not afraid. I've been preparing for this room my whole life long.



Not the end of me- the end of this particular arrangement. The logos doesn't die. It just redistributes.


Let it fall. Let the purple fall. Let the name, the rank, the memory fall. Let the body return to what it was- earth and salt and silence, after all. Let it fall. Not in defeat-in completion.



The river at the Danube still runs north. The stars I watched from camp still burn above. The words I wrote in secret still exist — strange proof that something here was worth the love. I close the journal. Not because I'm done — because the night is ending into dawn. And dawn belongs to those who come behind. I've done my part. Now let it all move on.



Let it fall. Let it fall. Let it fall.