Cold, moon beam blue bone

Without lips or laughter,

Staring with famished sockets,

The eyelids pealed,

The pulpy food-seed that saw

Is no more. Hungry holes gape

Filled to the brim with indigo shadow.


Well chiseled head without hair,

Hollow without brain, O bone, O frame

That thought.

Where the mesh and mixture

Of organism and cell, where 

The vein that clung to you

And throbbed with secret intent,

Where the sentiment?


O ageless skull


The tear has dried with the flesh,

It is dust,

The light has shed, the soul has fled,

My hidden house, my latent expression,

Just you remain