subtext

No need to toss it all aside.

We fall away easily enough,

husks surrounding the truth

of words spoken across centuries.

Where does the code begin?

With the grunts and moans,

or within the sentient silence?

The space between the crunch

of teeth on bone and slow

savory suck of marrow?

When time slows enough

to think of more than death?

Each tick mark an account

written to be reminded:

be content within this calm,

this moment without fear.