in my dreams, you cry hunched over my mother's grave
when the lanterns go out and i laugh without humour.
when winds howl in autumn, i'm lesser than human
i reach out to angels who know of this pain
—sometimes halfway to godhood just means inhumane.
though these nights, it's not heaven i dream of, but chains,
the terrible weight of dress shoes on black gravel.
yet, trapped, i still see, above the beach chapel
in yellow mist, enveloped, the moon up in midday
—in my nightmares, she cries up red tidals and wanes.
in the wake, your eyes tell me that everything's changed
nothing's the same, grey waves crash on the shore
that's why nothing can stay, let's not mourn anymore.
in the years have passed, just the headstone's the same.
—does it not spark a thought? how it's all in a name.
and yours opens up clouds now, it tears through terrain
and i tell the north star: lead the grief out this home.
still, i hear it, in remnants, in the whispers of foam.
the shrieks of your ghost put the seagulls to shame.
—they say here's where i loved you, here i'll decay.
