Live Forever

Like an echo, not the voice, not ever,
Abheder dosh, osteogenesis imperfecta,

The unhappy trait dissipates almost
As quickly as the life projecting it

But not quite. Echo, echo, echo, no
More echo. The shout itself had perished

Even as the first weak effort returned.
In theory, a happy trait, however,

Could live for good as forever, a trick
For perpetuating self through dying

Instantiations, how to make blood food,
How to bind the energy of the light,

How to make a sound between tongue and mouth
That means everything that ever there was

Will return, faintly and more faintly, then
In memory, then never home again.