Shoulder blades shine through silk
cold beads break and fall
afternoons pass in a blue acid mist
fine china bone faces glow through the wall.
the house moves a few steps back
and overlooks the river once again
fences fall apart, iron gates rust and die
wooden floors melt in the July rain.
dragonflies fly low dreaming of the dawn
waves rise and fall against their skin
the house has swept the courtyards of secrets
but apple cores dipped in silk scream of their sin.