we awake and i whisper to u a little while
with all of days gone by us
suffering to palliation and joy to dust
they dying of the light
and the ephemeral sadness in our bones
only the shadow and sleep to call home
melt away
with the fizzle-drip-dripping
skip tipping our hats like madmen
crashing through the black.
Oh Dolores, my pale and powerful queen.
