Climbing off the highest shelf,
crooning in dulcet tones,
she ground her bones
and built herself
the prettiest of tombs.
The song that sprang forth from her lips,
she was sure she’d never known:
an ode of sorts to all the ships
she’d seen but never flown.
(She’d caught his glimpse once before,
on a night half cold as this;
when the road was streaked with blood and gore,
and the fading promise of a painless bliss)
Oh, feel the brittle heartbeats
drown out the shaky breath.
as a half-forgotten sight it meets:
the cheeky grin of Death.