Shadows lay waste
to execution
footprints in the ashes
fan and respire
our faith filled skulls

Clinched              silent             fingers
                       beneath charcoal skies

and this will tell you all nothing


A baby picture
or a dead poem
i dont know the difference anymore

presence
present
when the sun
leaks through the shades
butterflies lie
at home

and thats when all the
white white chapels disappeared

looking for patterns in
the light

Once again i woke
upon forest floor
with an ancient campfire
in my belly

the one who melts your bones
and sells your strings

remember my name
cracked cello baroness
show me your secrets
in red red pools
striped across the
snow capped linoleum

my hands
are
shaking
Im trembling idly

if i can just figure out
this feeling
out

ill rest
with the rest
of the souls
down here

and if i could count
all the times i was
told to go away

i would have just as
many as i would have
wanted to stay