sharp in animal tongue burning fire of language come in the quiet months of summer I’ve seen what You have done alabaster, You cut so coldly I’ve seen You lie against the sky with Your teeth catching clouds and Your fingers strum these minor chords of night caught up in these notes there is winter yes and oh, You Silent King! a hint and a heavy cry stretched out as the stream of voices go by sing! Your lead reply night and winter tumble note for note and eye to eye through the skullwhite silence they fly they dance in lockstep time with a rhyming word and withered cry a note for a note and an eye for an eye and the song is in the flesh and it sings out through the mouth and the liver it fills with sorrow and the lungs they cry from the chest and the heart it will turn into a garden for ghosts into a garden a garden for ghosts