Right now, this is your afterlife.
Awareness is your ghost, pinned down
To a local habitation,
To a variety of names.
Wasn't it just last night you dreamed
Of falling straight down to your death,
Confronting the final quiet
As if diving into the lake?
Isn't it every night and nap
You vanish away completely
From yourself only to return
Again as slightly someone else?
Aren't you as conscious as any
Standard-order sentient being
And yet as helpless as any
Revenant haunting bare cupboards?
Afterlife is the only life
Any awareness ever knows,
Always a tick behind the real,
The no one who everyone feels.
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