photograph in the wooden stairwell

There is dark, wet hair hanging straight down
A forgotten crown of time hovering above an opaque face

This is a distraction from the large ancient concrete wings
And rolling eyes searching the crumbled ground
Echoes of slow moving footsteps towards the

dark and endless

Only prayers to a non-existent God
shatter the silence when in the presence of winged creatures

The desperate cry's for the sparing of an incoherent life
Falling on otherworldly ears

There is silence when it's all over

Deaf trees with limbs as wide as crusted mossy arms
Fallen yellow leaves on worn misty paths
Crushing heavy soles in their familiar timeless march
Tiny civilizations bustling in the dusty glow radiating from a blurred horizon watching with one eye

There is the captured sun,
resting, in the palms of soft fervid hands
Scrupulous meditation
Sipping from crossed hesitant legs

The centered, crushing focus of a seducer's self serving thrust

There is my death

The divorce of spine from the
Balance of previous existence

There are tightening joints

Pulling tighter

And tighter

The last breath seeping from vain malevolent lips
No ease of journey comes

The opposite of life pushing through every day
The undying residual echo of humanity that

Has not

Will not fade

There is the bittersweet and salty drink offered without choice
Circumstantial muscles at the base of her wings that flex as she stretches her arm
Offering her tarnished silver cup

The withered reflection swallowed whole by unchaste spots of brown

There is an utterance of peace

Warmth

As liquid flows down clenched throat

There is the scorching truth injected under crisp blue skin
Smoke and screams tower like a steaming cityscape in red dusk
Razed muscles and a formerly beating heart wrap around weakened arms

This is the open hole I fell through that was once solid reality

This is everything she taught me with never-ending example