The terror sunlight brings makes the shadows of the night
       Mere church mice.
The beautiful, waking seconds more disconcerting than sun showers
       Bathed in certain ambiguity.
The moments engrave their records in our eyes,
       Reminding us of our eternal fixation.
The sleight of hand that brainwashes us in favor of long hours of conviction
       Instead of the truth in a storyteller’s gorgeous fiction.
The lies our sight sings to us are only digging deeper in the soft earth,
       Our graves swallowing us as we breathe and don’t speak.
The dirt of the physical, the mud of the popular and the worms that carry them,
       Knitting through my eyes and ears and mouth and nose.
The sweet suffocation of silence will carry me to darkness again
       Where the church mice and I can plot our escape.