Intensely dead


Lightning strikes lovers sleeping 

with others, each three times.

Both survive. Seared inside out,


maker met, hair turned white, 

they spring to life. No more

a given, the final dip.


Now a matter of depth, degree.

Diving to a deeper death, past 

passed away. Intensely dead.


Plenty of time to glue

sullied pages of our afterlives 

together with bright tears.

                            Timothy Pilgrim