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Description
The clock struck twelve.
Their chests rose so softly in sleep,
subtle movements behind closed eyelids.

Placed the dark crown once more unto my head;
The cold black feathers holding together to form a halo,
a small flap of wings and a mute welcome from my little crow.

Closing the door lightly, I stepped out once more.
The darkness creeping back into my eyes.
The moonlight guiding my stride.
The cold earth holding my bare feet.

Once more through these wrought iron gates.
Past the rosethornes, and the wood house, and the quiet, glittering brook.
Here where the tombstones stand upright, row-upon-row,
holding vigil over these dead.
(Like fucking teeth biting through skin)

My feet numb and tingling, I continued on my way.
[Second-last row, fourth from the end.]
Humming an undecipherable little tune until I faced that headstone.
Her headstone.

I sat down and started digging.
The frozen dirt digging back at my fingertips.
Through skin, and flesh, and blood.
Till my hands were but bone like the hundreds of empty eyes watching me.
I kept digging. Numb, and cold, and humming, and digging.

Cleared myself a space and fell asleep beside a skeleton
that was far too warm to be lifeless.

Fell asleep beside a skeleton that once held far too much love to be lifeless.