Are you really dead?

I mean officially dead

Not just brain dead.

Do you have that certificate

Tied with black ribbon and

A waxed red seal as in times of old?

Or lie you comatose

Awaiting a breath of wind,

To fill your sails and then race madly

Through the white capped waves

Of lustful living

To finally port your helm to home and me.

Tomar. 01 June 2025