I gave away my heartbeats to a black dark night
sculpted a stone into a new heart
with each daily news break hanging from my dreams
like silk shrouds for all the dead of just one day on Earth
while the night unfolded her mystery
and my heartbeats were pulsars in a distance too great to travel
while my stone heart was stoic and hardened to grief
I make paper flowers , now, out of black crape, for all those about to enter the land of the dead.
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 11:54 AM UTC
I gave away my heartbeats to a black dark night
sculpted a stone into a new heart
with each daily news break hanging from my dreams
like silk shrouds for all the dead of just one day on Earth
while the night unfolded her mystery
and my heartbeats were pulsars in a distance too great to travel
while my stone heart was stoic and hardened to grief
I make paper flowers , now, out of black crape, for all those about to enter the land of the dead.