Without asking any
questions, you had turned
your life around and lived
on your terms, like
a curate.

Hold your breath.
Hear the truth. A death leap will
bring the peril. I was
going to engage the sanctioned
terror.

It piles up. The crumpled
moon. I will dig up
the ancient light from the
porous heart of a
dying saint.

The missing links are
appearing. You must live
to understand the talent's waste in
dark moments of a
fractured sun.