Hot sleep plays on
grave subjects
lain to expand and extend
as fears attend
When they dream of you
they dream of a
blackness uninhabited
edged in crimson
and wait for the cool
earliness to rouse them
in rescue
In those days we waited
and the air imagined breathed thick
not searing but
a splintered serous
far from smooth
Through a keyhole marked
by rusted time
a tiny click
echoed untimely
frightful freedom
