we stole the shadow

we stole the shadow
we stole the shadow of my ancestral
tombs; we became as gods    we tried
to leech the final sound off the

pallor of the living ground    and we
slept as the shallow seeds of an
aftermath resounded with clarity, and

we stole the shadow of my ancestral
tombs; we culled each minstrel’s hark
and say    we stole the sounds & ran

—-

to clinch the remainder of servitude
to clinch the remainder of servitude    to
bleach the dawn

gray    this premonition is goading surrender
this reminder

to sew the drain    clean as in the wash of
my gullet’s dark

we fly inchwards borrowing your sorrow making
mine peace with

this    dust