Night comes down like a held breath over old ground White wings chipped, black names sinking in You stand where the blessed and the damned both rest Straw at your throat, brim cutting the moon in half Frost on the marble, frost on the rail The gate don’t creak but it still lets me fail I didn’t come hunting. I just didn’t turn And you were already waiting where the lanterns don’t burn You don’t lift a hand You don’t waste a word The tilt of that hat does the asking And I answer like I never heard Oh— There you are Scarecrow face, dead-man stare sewn shut Whatever you hid under that brim Is the only thing I still want to touch We move like the earth is keeping time Slow circle past the kneeling stone One turn for the angel who won’t look down One turn for the ones who never rose Pine dark, gravel grind, no hymn in the air Just the sound of my own breath pretending it isn’t prayer Your shadow longer than the body it claims My wanting longer than the night can name You let the mask slip just enough to show the hollow A seam, a strand, a little proof of the rot Then you pull it back like that was mercy That’s how you keep me — not by lying By almost telling the truth and stopping I know the eyes behind it aren’t living I know the mouth isn’t cut for my name Still I put my palm on the stuffing and the twine And call it dancing so I don’t have to call it shame Oh— There you are Hat low, eyes gone, love still working Scarecrow mask over a dead man’s stare And I keep the step Like the dirt already signed my name there Midnight leans. The markers lean with it Dates half-gone, wings half-broke, weeds in the script We pass the angel twice and she never blinks We pass the buried twice and they never speak I tell my feet the gate is still open I tell my mouth this is the last slow turn Then you breathe that country nothing And the last turn learns how to burn Don’t lift the brim Don’t let the moon see what’s left If the dead man looked at me plain I’d have to leave these graves and mean it So keep the straw in place Keep the stitch where a smile should be Let the angel pretend she doesn’t watch Let the demons stay quiet underneath Hold Hold the measure Let the wind do the fiddle Let the stones keep the drum We don’t need a song We already know this one I came to walk through I stayed to be held by something empty Loving the mask Because the face would end it If you ever took it off I would have to hate the night So you never will And I call that kindness And I call that mine Last circle now Heel in the pine straw, hand on the lie You stand over the earth like you already paid I look at the brim like looking is a vow There you are Still Scarecrow face Dead-man stare sewn shut Hat cutting the moon Mask doing the loving for both of us In the yard Where the angel and the demons lay I keep the step I keep the dark I keep the man who isn’t there Oh— There you are There you stay Between the angel and the dirt And I dance Like I chose it.
