Julius Chingono


WHEN I DIED

When I died
I let a fly do
Whatever it felt with me.
Excited that it had
all of me to itself.
With no disturbance
it danced all over me
flew all over me
wanted everything about me.
At the same time
it looked into my eyes ruefully
ate from my mouth greedily
listened in my ears
smelled inside my nose
dived, touched, circled
but at last, flew away agitated
that I was not irritated
by its celebrations.
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