bones where our fathers sleep
forgotten beneath the stairs,
theater of the virgin daughter has begun
left the abyss
rode naked beneath a harvest sky,
flowers once cast upon the river
caught by rising fishes
their illiterate world
tensed and sure,
this has to be the darkest season
of blood not drawn by knife
but fear of the morning hill,
normal day without monsters
forged on sleeping mental despair,
no amount of her is aimless,
violets had been crushed on the lawn
buzzards had become trapped in
rivers sediment,
wrapped in fabric woven with
delusion and anagrams of what
love should of brought,
bands of gold encircle retinas flourish,
she has found a new way
more than chromosomes shared with
other mammals,
she raises a visible alarm,
society dissected under assured touch
and found the moon wanting,
no more to be buried side by side
eternal would be joy and dance,
then we sleep
velvetmedia 