Elisabeth lives as more than dust
She lies in Rachel's ribs
through sharpie ink
and in the sky when it turns salmon pink
behind crosses and hills
nothing has ended
she is still strung through trees
and her soul is fused to yours clean
numb will consume us
and ill brush the knots from your hair when there is nothing else to say
death is one way to find out who will stay
and who will go cry themselves to sleep because they cant see beyond themselves

guitar strings vibrate in bars
and we search for signs of where you are