We pressed our ears to the earth

there was a stillness in the glen;
a little less gladsome than it was
grateful. she sharpened the knife
while he sharpened the pen and
the two came tumbling down the
shelf; handclasped and wanting
more. “hold,” he told her. “wait,”
she shuddered. it’s not as easy to
keep it together when the whole
place is burning down. the ides
of march weren’t looking. a tin
on the edge of the loam. as we
fold ourselves in together, in
neat peeled edges, we start to
take in a little bit less of the the
things that keep us scared. i’ll
hold you to the frost when the
first scar comes pressing down,
but you have to promise me that
you won’t come crashing down
too. we weren’t fated to be such
a killing glance, but then, who
was? a few less memories and a
few more willing glances to the
phlegm shade in the dark. put
another fade upon the wall and
call it majesty. we’re swallowed
up by rain clouds before we’ve
ever begun. shut me in. seal it
away. burn away the edges till
it shines like molten steal. i’m
just the legend of a woman that
never was. set me loose. trim a
bit off the core and peel it free.
she is dogma draped in lace.