Like Some Sort of Song

After the waves were gone,

I kept on thinking

about your face out there,

on the sea, on the sky.

 

And my mother puts up her masks

out of reach.

And the spiders keep crawling, make

nests in my teeth.

 

After the wolves laid down

I kept on picking

threads from this book,

on the trees, on the dark.

 

And my father writes lists

of pretty names.

And the ghosts keep leaving now

on rickety trains.

 

After the world was alone

I kept on dreaming

about the way it broke,

on the waves, on the wolves.

 

And my love pours out

all his blood.

And I kept saving him, or I

thought I could.

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