And It Was Night
Come with me into the cave
crunching down a pebbled path,
steadying candles, stony plaque thickening,
mildew filling our noses and settling
over the barren bed
where we sit on damp boulders,
drip wax at our feet, then trace
flickering faces on granite walls.
We nod, blow them out;
red wicks dim and disappear
and we behold darkness, so pure—
no shade, no shadow, no sound, no breath
nothing here, nothing not here—
but this dark blood filling our ventricles.