Cave of Voices
a question, lightly penciled on the flyleaf if you believed a work of fiction magic/ dusty sleep. not long after dawn in the dark/ anyone. unroll the book of water once it's gone/ anyone I suppose can be haunted, even willing so I am, blindly, mouth loose, others forgetful/ gnarled world poured through fingers/ never fallen/ eyes from the back in that cave beyond me, persists/ we told very little then wrong side of the sky waited/ I set my price, the door purported to be the greater sorrow, hear me now how long will/ how long will the magic stay
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