I Think I Remember How To Die Poem by Patti Masterman

I think I remember how to die:
Hold onto that breath, just a few beats longer,
Relax the palms; let the tensions leave
Now find that string of thought behind
Many years before, when you left that watery space
And first opened up your mouth to breathe.

Let the chest sink, hollowed out,
Let your jaw hang; don't force breaths
Peace and lack of rhythm are death's calling cards;
Let motions cease, and the eyes roll up:
Somewhere in the corner of the ceiling, there's a sign
The soul needs to go home; because it's divine.

It's on borrowed helpmate status here;
Lent to us, to drive us through our days,
Take us places, with a definite location;
The orchestrator and originator of motion:
It never stops; but when it's gone
The body stays still, while it moves on.