AWE TOME KNELL

AWE TOME KNELL

depart your brass
warm air, your
paper shredded skin,

all now is
leaving, leaving us
to chase behind,

ushered along by
some well deserved
chill.

COCKATRICE

COCKATRICE

cobble gazed

stare orbs,

roam, full,

gut my

weasel skin.

BIRCHES

BIRCHES

twinned and windswayed,

skin torn by the boys,

overeager and dreaming

the scraps are blank paper,

but they will never write

upon them, not about your

beauty, anyway, more likely

it's destined instead to be

just more kindling for

their unwise fires.