requiem

There is a way light lies

when all the seeing is done,

a sight spent of trick and treat

the umbrage of existence filled

as the shadows let loose, 

freeing the stays of form and 

the familiar, letting the dark

insist. The sunken tone

dusk remits carrying from

mouth to mind, the words

cracked open between 

the grit and grin of yellowed

teeth and troubled tongues. 

The dreams ooze and writhe, 

every name and open grave,

every bone and blot revealed.

The dead keep dying, waiting on

their stories to drain out,

waiting on the honor mentioned 

to be loosed as dust and sighs.

The losing light giving way, 

breath slow and shallow, 

eyes drowning in silt and wishes,

every promise a stone sinking in the sea.