In our life, death is no song. Do you hear it? Silence. In the graveyard, not a single person is speaking. ‘Living’ and ‘death’, Paired up, Sounds clunky. Like two estranged neighbors living side by side Exchanging nothing more than an occasional casual wave “Hello.” The two perform a dance that is Tense. Performative. Seen only by the random neighbor. And then… someone draws the curtain, What is the silent gesture for, “Goodbye?” I think it’s a clap, Two of them, Short and sweet, Like a life well-lived.
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