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Helix

It’s like a .50 cal round piercing your
Mind but not your brain.
It shreds thoughts and destroys you.
Your soul atomizes, its particles catch the
Solar breeze. Each hint that
You existed glints a unique color
That humans can’t see but maybe
Mantis shrimp can. Maybe not.
Your prismatic thoughts swirl through
Clear skies on their way to
Nowhere in particular. It’s a long journey.
A burial is pointless, your ashes were already scattered.
The fragments which were you become an
Aurora no one sees. They coalesce, disperse,
Unionize, revolt, give up, and are outmatched.
Post-death you still grasp for meaning —
Or is it purpose?
What are you fighting, really?
The outcome won’t change.
Even so, your desaturated dust becomes
Spores in new minds,
Stretching mycelium through thoughts,
Preparing to fruit.