I swallow the night.
Stained lips crimson
for the coming sun.
There is sanctity
in this silent mourning.
Veil of ivory ash
to bathe slender bones.
A hushed sound
buried in the divine
exile of time.
Oh, song of lost souls
Hear this ancient calling.
A hymn of root and branch.
Warm breath etched
with words yet unspoken
and I breathless for
their secrets.