Nothing, like something, happens anywhere. Philip Larkin

In the dead body,

in extreme old age,

in desrted mausoleus,

in the empty chapmper,

in bones washed with winw,

in dried blood,

in unwipped tears,

in yellowed aged albums,

in shattered souls,

in the last embrace,

in a worn out coat,

in the lie you told me,

in the muddy graceyard,

in sad news,

there beauty

still exists.