a crack in the void of survivability
soft breath over the surface of a clear field
shattered like glass without danger
lips disembodied from the cusp
the gentle call of something dim and sharp
a brutal word from a dream we both had
tell me the worthy price of realization
say we haven't overpaid
grey mist rolling in the morning
the cold ache of rain and smoke
a pale death long sought
the haze of us in a farther place
where we've touched.