You once said to me
As coyly as a school girl
While stubbing out a cigarette
In a lemon rind
That all oblivion is redress.
Yet I can’t help
Seeing you in the end
The dark angel of
Dementia lurking behind
The once brilliant onyx
Of your eyes
And think perhaps all
Oblivion is not redress
But simply what awaits
Like the signature
Event horizon of a life
Untarnished by relative Morality.
Umbriate Press Poetry 