Lured to destruction by the sweetness of song,
how in your distress words endure olive song.
Flesh addressing its undoing sweats, pants, longs
to be adored once more before death-soft song.
Pillowing its ending’s definitive hurt
in cotton-mouthed whispers, tears tongue due-dropped song.
To pay him to come, they run, weeping love’s debt
as if having too much to give shoves off song.
Pushes against its treasury’s door afford
beggars glimpses of a world rich with robbed song.
Pilfered pinches of snuffed candles bidden dark
to shirk eyes this crime’s face voice aversive song.
In her mouth swallows land, this cavern two lips
expand to pronouncement some doubt fouls dove-song.
And, in doting on the one whose mission it
is to bring about undoing, we gift song.
In so doing, in our prudent ruse offer
of echo resounding to prove wrong fraught song.
How, in his hearing of her psalm, Jono longs
for the reaper’s weeping maiden to sob song.