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Heather Butler
Poems
Feb 2018
graveyard dust
another sleepless night my red
eyes tired and tried
i let your words fall
over my body like ashes
dust to dust i have buried
the bodies of those i have
loved and carried their dirt
under my fingernails back home
three thousand moths will settle in
the brickwork because the light
was on we hold our hands
against the ceiling as we drive beneath
a train a superstition when you laugh
i see the shape
of your skull behind
your skin
#love
#loss
#superstition
#death
Written by
Heather Butler
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