With Death to Fall

by Nathaly Muñoz

I’ve fallen in love with death

We met at the 3rd avenue

In front of the Sun’s last smile

While he waited for the last tear

Of ray of light fall through the rainy gray-blue clouds.

“I really don’t know you…yet I know you are here and,” he puts his cold finger

On my lips.

I hesitate.

I look into his icy warm blue eyes,

he stares back into my

Hazels, numb.

They are lost at the beautiful reflection of his face.

His black hair is shiny, deep, too mysterious for an angel to be.

I think.

He slashes his finger downward my chin

As if to lift it up…perhaps he only wants one more kiss before saying

goodbye.

“I don’t know who you are, but at least I know I don’t want you to leave me…”

Shush.

He gently presses his lips into mine.

He pulls me closer to him.

I gasp,

looking for air.

I feel like flying, floating I may say, within a tremendous wind of

Flowers and harp whispers that hammer my mind and my soul, hammer gently.

I want him so bad I could go wherever he is going. He knows that.

He smiles at the thought.

I feel so cold, yet so warm.

So mute, yet so alive. Inside.

My eyes now closed.

I begin to float even more or somewhat like floating and disappearing from all my

Terrors and mistakes and laughs and cries and sober days. Good-bay. I say.

I felt in love with death as well as he with me.

He showed me the way to a rest in peace, I lay here now, with him

Transcending Mother, Eternity.