The lungs take their final breath;
The brain starts to die, one, twelve cells a time,
Until the eventuality simultaneously happens.
The light becomes dark and the dark becomes matter. There exists nothing, but something attune. You cannot reap it or hold it mid June.
The warp isn’t real and the sticker isn’t a dune. They’ll tell you nothing but in there is something. That’s what life is before the birth.
When you open your eyes again and see what you once were— you remember what is relevant, not what gives you the answers.
Life is not a puzzle, it is neither a newspaper, Nor a thimble; A conspicuous chasm or castle.
They keep asking me, “what is it you know”;
Lest do they know, they also had to grow.
Within that cycle is a key but that’s the point—
There is no key or anything containing it.
You want to know the answer?!
But you also don’t want to breathe through the fire. It’s a pinnacle and the ice has already melted. When you become a genius— you then realise it takes a whole lot more than transcendence.

The brain survives for 3 to 4 minutes after the heart stops and the human takes their final breath. But they are not dead until their skin is cold. That’s when reincarnation begins. The body you had, although dead, will do what the next eventuality also does. But where you head next, is kept yours in both life and death.

© Lois Christina