filigree effacement

Welcome to the Museum of Being 

Veins closed, protected from light 

Proof remains

Embedded 

Where pyres burn for no witness 

Depths congealed

By floods standing in a heap 

Waters named for rivers 

Melted 

Buttered

Mourning for strange speech

Left here

Under the broken but balanced bench posts 

The tentativeness of a scheduled ambivalence 

Pomp of prescience 

An absent arrival 

Welcomed home to all those fragile vessels

Holding their case for justice 

A wobbly waltz, learned

And a try to teach, profess

Salty lids for containment

When the mirror of madness breaks 

Maybe the worms will have us 

Only the rings of our bones will know 

Our carried tales grown tall