Requiem

Lindsey, in perfect fifths,
let’s shatter the veil
between worlds.

The universe is sold out,
but your bridge is precise
and the dead watch your maple
neckline

while I anesthetize myself
in words.

Your snakewood grows on dried gut,
I am glued to paper –

We are limited in time;
in stranded worlds.
Let’s shatter the veil
and bring them together.