It can be disputed, that the dying breath of man is composed solely of flushed, angelic breeze. Not unlike a delicate touch, traversing each curve of hip and thigh, while lying, entwined beneath a cool summer’s morn’. It can be disputed, that such temperate breeze resembles the joy felt upon hearing an infant’s first wail. It has been proven, that one’s last breath is nothing more than carbon dioxide and nutrients, dispelled. I have seen more death than life. I embody the bile rising from the city’s sewers. Vomited, from the cracked and bleeding mouths of our forefathers. The gutters ejaculate, stinging my skin, pricking, as needles. No matter how I try, I cannot be scrubbed clean. I dispute, that death is anything pleasant. For the living. I have seen more death than life. And I braid its bony fingers, within my own. ~ In memory Joseph Jacob Horvatits © Copyright Sue Eckam - All Rights Reserved Web Graphics & Site Design © by RayneDay Creations