Lay Down to Rest, Chase the Sun

– for James

The bishop sends letters in claws of the barred.
Fall like ash in the palm of my hand.
Summer storms whip matchbook straws,
swallow light from my fragile nest.

Sounds from shadow, my first mistake
cool air lifting my lover’s chest
silence sleeps, doesn’t wake
a man like me afraid of death.

A man like me afraid of death
swallows light from a fragile nest.
Silence sleeps, doesn’t wake,
summer storms whip matchbook straw.

Cool air lifting lover’s chest.
Falls like ash in the palm of my hand.
The sound of shadows, my first mistake.
Bishop sends letters in the claws of the barred.

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