(no subject)

[proximoception]

That phrase "the skull beneath the skin"
Reminds us that a skeleton
Not only stands for being done,
But also Death, the doer-in.

It's that that skin is ours that's grim;
From within he comes, the Reaper:
Each of us his own end's keeper.
Skin can't hide that we are him.

Though also not. A skull's a seat
And we're what sits there. We're the skin.
Bone's the soil where begin
Those growths that put the me in meat.

All stems from him, all goes back,
But nonetheless he stays a stranger.
Life-possessed one, you're the change:
A ripple on a fade to black.