The bareness is dressed tonight
In all the black boa boon
The moon is pale her skin is pale
Too trite to spite the sight,
Her eyes are all around the moors
And her lips hold pressed the stars
Her forehead is beaded diamond sweet
The teeth like prison bars.
The faces all but sing along
Those faces twist and blur
They open once
They open twice
And that’s the last I’ve heard.
There was a lace like a staircase
That rung around her neck,
So Godly long she made it stretch
Who knew death were those who bedecked…
Then nothing moved or made a sound,
Save for a stream that soothed
Just made of light that wove forthright
Among nothing left to peruse.