Line upon the funeral marks,
Though you push forth without start
To the gunshot that sets you free
In the vessel, the vein that you bleed
Towards the filtered sunlight.
Is love the sinking ship?
Are these waters everything we wept?
While no heartbeat can skip
As rocks upon a lake,
Shattered lungs reveal your sight,
Drowned in the same splendid shame
You hide, upon the same lane.
Do you run without looking behind?
The same mirror would reflect
Brief glimpses to the horror
Never to be, when you were mine.
We run tears from the faucets,
Wash our hands in those crimson outlets –
While the world turns to stone,
Crippled on the aging bone.
Let us freeze ourselves in Hell,
Waking to a brief afterlife,
Holding the other in the same casket,
Folding the other beyond the last page.
Turn down no later words
That would drop from idle hearse –
When the burial to where we meet
Is left for the bare-skinned shorelines,
The place where a lighthouse rose
To rope us together, bind us close.
While Autumn would enter through –
Let kisses be the breath
That heals us, beyond death.