the dead woman

some nights lay still bounded
between the armoury
whilst
trembled knees each leg entwined
yet I could not reach you.
I couldn’t

reach beyond the barracks
guarding the luxury
these
covered eyes would reveal
a conditioning of sorts
I shouldn’t

see. my mind lest we bend
suspended heartbeats bruised
while
in active eupnea illumines
familiar shaded routine used,
I wouldn’t

dare waken to raise. the woman
motionless, even the dead sea
crowns
blackened waveless hair
and shining dough skin glazed
I couldn’t

preach allegiance to. a frayed
up mind afraid of time
escaping
to the suns trumpet shrill
to exercise a mournings drill
I wouldn’t
try to open

just before the door pries
open a flutter of misty cries
churns the belly. stretching
out from sleeping, or not

the butter flies in the dark lies
promises. each dream will rise
up ripening the problems cranked
hands to shake ajar the matters
of the heart