It's after midnight now

the candelabra crazing walls

our masquerade has ended

Götterdämmerung ist tot.



our assemblage resembles

a gathering of ghost

reflections swaying

on cut crystal pendants

fading crude glyphs

painted hide and skin

phosphorescent blood after-images

photographed on dying retinas.


Embarrassed, melting

back from our masque

and sacrifice of the cave

no-one applauds us

we walk away

from poetry past

our fire embers.