About My Death

I don’t want to see it coming

like late summer roses waiting to bloom

or a highway I remember in Spain,

a giant black cutout bull

as a hilltop billboard.

Instead let me be half asleep,

the Never and Forever twins,

one in a brown dress, one in blue,

steeped in the shadows of my room,

the air replacing my breath

with flow and husk, and then the sound.

Let me leave each twin a gift:

a milky quartz on the night table,

my worn gold wedding ring.