an end

Your eyes were filled with silence
I took the bullet off your chest
the knife I lost within the daw
I did not know the winner

Truely I beseached you
hundreds of coins flew into the river
and I could not stop the sparks
from becoming ferries of your choice

I cleared the path from torns and branches
'it is cosy' you whispered
from a shade of a tree
the movement was lost within her palms

And I left you - grasping for air
covered in swet and sticky dust
to lead the way to haunted houses
whose deadly scweeks scare the craw