Let them judge if I offend when I choose not to walk solemnly on consecrated grounds,
I would rather trample and stomp on rain puddles and be condemned in the eyes of men.
For I believe all we bury are our loves that the body cannot contain in your absence.
I like to believe you are far, elsewhere, gleeful; and have no use for my desolation.
But if the afterlife is after all where we leave you, I walk as you’ve known me walk,
so you may hear the familiar tempo of my footfalls, and know I have never let you go.
2015.nov.02
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