sixteen

Asylum
There is a hole where my home used to be
And a corridor echoing infinitely
Where there used to be a hearth
And the arched, domed windows are my brow
My eyes are majick cups
And my tongue has been cut out

My dark eyed waltzing partner
Is dancing with me once again
Always so close by my side
In these silent cold spaces
The music lasts and lasts
When they try to sever us
The music dies away
And I’m left with the screams
Of green glass

Then I’m with ghosts
We wash we press we clean
White is all right about us
All white with not the smallest stain
Acres and acres with no surprises
No delight and no imagination