Curtains dry the atonement of the night.
The soul saved coveted by the greedy walls
As if no mark could rune a salvation's whisper.

Final promise to lie down in stiff limbs,
Succumbed to halogen heavens high.
Strained dry eyes link blinding halos.

Fibers cradle a dry, dark dissertation.
Ceramic plates contour new shape
As it stains anew with ebbed contempt.

It's been so long since I've bled.

© 2012