You carry me down the hill with the moon nestled deep within your pockets. Your warmth resounds deep into my hollow aura, smoldering in a sweet smoke. You inject your daily embalming love deep under my skin, the rivers running white. You tuck my chin under the railroad tracks with the careful delicacy of a skilled taxidermist. There was nothing romantic in the way I faded to amber, nor in the way your hands folded into crescents and pulled down a tiered curtain of blackness, speckled with the eyes of your descendants.