Today we learned about endings

How to create

a lingering sense

of full mouth and belly,

the lasting sting of a slap,

unvanquished, unyielding

How the shortest letter might

survive the thought that formed it,

ourselves,

our tombs,

and become a lasting link

‘Le fin est assez tragique’

But Wilde only ever expected

to be mourned as an outcast

by outcasts

We say goodbye sweetly

the sanctimonious

pleasure of the succinct

but we are borne back,

ceaselessly, into the past

A dead language on the grave of a Russian accentologist

says ‘Language is a ford through the river of time

It leads us to the dwelling of those gone before;

But he cannot arrive there

Who fears deep water’

We must not be afraid

to choose the last word

and let it speak ceaselessly.

Nevermore.