What if it was a mistake? You
were to call me and yell into your town’s last land
line, “I’m not dead dear. Stop
spreading those rumors.” Cremated
or buried—cremated and buried. Bridges
open avenues to nonchalance. Back
to the world, a quick flick of the left wrist
and release. Undo that—can’t be done.
Night & Day Poems of Amy Nash 
honestly, i don’t think i get it (maybe not the first time also…mm.. never mind).
but i love this part – “What if it was a mistake? You
were to call me and yell into your town’s last land
line, “I’m not dead dear. Stop
spreading those rumors.” Cremated
or buried—cremated and buried.”
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Thanks for your comments.
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