The grave is empty again.
Together we walk in the still dawn time
before the earth turns golden
and green, brown and blue.
These wounds, those fires of rage and despair
are now cool to the touch, a keloid brooch,
weightless and pale next to your pierced side;
memory of chafed shoulders and stricken heart.
I have lost it all and gained the world
Chafed shoulders and stricken heart