I chose to go to the dead with you

because all eyes there are blind

and all ears deaf to my utterances.

 

 

The dead cannot judge, and

those slack mouths that keep

tight lips, forever hold peace.

Underground whispers will never

find freedom to meet the air,

nor share the secrets set free there.

 

I chose to go to the dead with you

because the air is different there; thicker,

and thoughts move slower through its density.

 

I chose to go to the dead with you so

manic minds could not perceive protected thoughts.

They stay, undetected, except by you.

 

Only you sniff at the misty hint of them.