Conjugating the Dead

 time came and went. in a deluge of flesh. 

we sunk in the color of why. architects chafed by their own bridges. as gravity licked its lips. 

we tallied our bruises. like some vile currency. all wasted on empty places. 

touch is a chameleon. 

its empty dresses laid in the soil. its stolen faces quickly forgotten. 

the world twisted on its corners. fretting softly as the truth divined our secrets. 

we turned into the wind. orphans content with what had been lost. 

the distance shrugged.

and we kept moving.