Put Me

Put me in the ground
if you must;
my body is already rotten.

Put me in the furnace
if you like,
and then put my ashes
on the mantle.

I was already at eye-height,
but now you will never
look at me again,
even if it means you never
lift your eyes
from the ground, or never
bring them back down
from the heavens.

Put me on a bier,
and light a fire;

I am not really here —
I have been gone
for a very long time.

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Talk back to me. Trust me; I'm listening.

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