curtains

these final days are pregnant
is it my story's end that is gestating?
my spine curls with gravity's power
over the years my heart labours
in its internal singing of all the previous
requiaa

all that is flesh trembles
thick with its notions of not existing
yet it feels as though I am
preparing to birth some new version
of the self, life's macadam curtain
hanging in the heavens or the bedroom
is being pulled aside I can almost
feel the contractions forcing the
memories out of this womb
secure & hidden no more

I don't know where this came from exactly. I was at work, downloading endless Windows XP updates to the new computers we are about to put out when this feeling of expectation came over me. I am sure it appears a little dark, but it doesn't feel that way to me. It feels like this story ending is purposeful. Who knows?