To the marrow of a hinge in the door looming within the spaces in my spine.

 I partake unwillingly into the silence of the thereafter; I hear them walking after these hours...

I do so.

Linger in the niche halfway of dawn predesessing names, and umbilical alliances from the severed.

The key is in the shadow and the sun.

The howl before humanity: I am somehow unasleep, sleeping beneat...

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This pain in the darkness…

It came to sudden eve to blaspheme the torment of branch through the quintessential. 

It took through the walls the solidity of ghost stories mending soul with ethereal strings and fire.

The amplitude of dust from centuries ferments in my body as life.

And, the blood seeps from the willow trees within pen as ink.

Playing into fruition heart chords drizzled...

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