Memento Mori

I scratch the itch behind the ear.
Elastic cuts into my skin
To hold the blindfold on my mouth.

The WhatsApp on the frosted glass
Assures me in the voice of God:
“ICU 2”. I see you too.

Elastic says an itch in time
Could save me nine rebirths tonight.
Do not, do not go wasting life.

A tiny pad beside the phone.
A borrowed pencil from the staff.
To rinse my words. To mince my thoughts.

Do not, do not go wasting life.

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