Dying

I think about dying every day
so when Eric the yoga instructor encourages us to inhale
and then exhale and
then close the back of our throat and
let ourselves feel empty and let ourselves feel need
I think
*this* is how I want to go
mid-breath
needing
laying on my back or stretching to the sky
still
becoming
in silence and contemplation
The act of re-regeneration
or laughing loudly as a lover tells a story
laying side by side
or walking a sunlit path
rays dancing off a chemo bald head
still victorious
I want to die in the act of creation
paintbrush arcing between delighted fingers
half covered canvas
dreams still unseen
I want to die mid poem
words aching at the back of my throat

my obituary will just say
Hello World
isn’t it wonderful?

and my held breath will tell the world all the ways she was