The bodies are buried
in the dank boiler room
of a building scabbed
with crimson windows.
Trimmed with gargoyles,
the superstructure rises
on cords of carbon steel.
Inside miraculous husks,
the elevators lift and fall,
lift and fall, without stopping.
Antiquated carriages
click like scarabs
on ropes and pulleys.
With interiors lit
by faint buttons,
the listless coffins
circulate our remains
behind gypsum walls.
When the elevator doors glide open,
an emerald chime sings your name.
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 4:12 PM UTC
The bodies are buried
in the dank boiler room
of a building scabbed
with crimson windows.
Trimmed with gargoyles,
the superstructure rises
on cords of carbon steel.
Inside miraculous husks,
the elevators lift and fall,
lift and fall, without stopping.
Antiquated carriages
click like scarabs
on ropes and pulleys.
With interiors lit
by faint buttons,
the listless coffins
circulate our remains
behind gypsum walls.
When the elevator doors glide open,
an emerald chime sings your name.
