THE GHOST INSIDE

Another hour
stacked upon the other hours
empty feasts
no longer feed such joy

Love framed in bone
held captive
detailed in fleshy swamps
of aged growth

Written words
across stonewalls
train and trade in a war
their speech nailed on the paperless voice

But that
crumbling wound
deceased as love gave no choice
thousand wolfs howl
within a cavity left
silent between worlds

She fumbles in blind hand
with a small metal button
as heavy as a marked gravestone
how small a thing
can march straight and
at the head
with memories kiss 
grey, cold,
so alone

Night at last
brightens the room
darkens the few pieces
of mirrored glass
survivors from reflected gore

She snuggles
deep back into the crumbled wound
wonders at the moonlit silence
the dust that waits
patient, collected,

Balance precious in breath
clearing the frosted sweet judgement
decisions cake
sits in idle lack
sits knowing

She
She
SHE