To Slip the Veil of This World

Choose a Season

Wait for the time when the sky forgets its color.

When the air stirs like something remembering how to move,

and the birds fall into patterns no longer meant for eyes.

This is when the veil thins.

This is when the world forgets to look.

Abandon All Witnesses

Speak your final truth to bark veined deep with forgetting.

Then turn.

Walk until language loosens from your bones

and you remember nothing with a name.

Let your outline blur.

You must become the absence of arrival.

Collect the Proper Silence

Find silence shaped by longing,

the kind curled inside the mouths of statues,

beneath the lids of sleeping animals.

Wrap it around your final sigh

until your exhale forgets it ever belonged to lungs.

Make Yourself Hollow

Remove history from your spine.

Extract every reason you were ever touched.

Place your thoughts in a glass jar

and leave them beneath the roots of something hungry.

It will feed.

You will fade.

Walk Through the Unremembering

There is no road.

But step forward anyway.

The world will rewrite itself behind you.

Trees will close their trunks.

Earth will unlearn your shape.

Final Instruction

If you hear someone call your name

do not turn.

If you feel the warmth of something familiar

let it pass through you

like sunlight on glass.

You are nearly gone.

You are almost

nothing.

And what a beautiful

vanishing

you have made.