A Hymn From the Hollow

 
I dreamed I was whole once—
or something stitched from ash,
fingers tracing hollow names
down walls that never asked.

She moves beneath the skin,
a hymn behind my tongue,
whispers wrapped in copper wire—
"Stay... stay... come undone."

Am I still breathing—
or just the echo of her touch?
Carved beneath the surface,
a husk in love with rust.

Veins blooming through stone,
her voice in every crack,
the crows call out in distant tongues—
I know she's pulling me back.

I wear her weight like worship,
soft silk against the bone—
if she is the end of everything,
then I am already home.

Am I still breathing—
or just the echo of her touch?
Carved beneath the surface,
a husk in love with rust.

There was a door once—
I think I left myself behind.
Now I kneel in the dust,
nameless by design.

Her name beneath my skin,
her light behind my eyes,
I am kneeling, I am nothing,
I am dreaming myself alive.