To Another Shirking Duty Do I Die

To another shirking duty do I die Swarmed by specious crowding thoughts that sped We wed in black, so dreaded black to tie The altars bones of white that lined our bed And followed constellations in our heads. My addled weight of whetstone you've become With tons of stones in wooden bladed sling Past summers clouded face hung heaven's sun On bark you tried to dry the deadest things And on my strumming soul threadbare you'd sing. The nightmares ran past colored vats of dye As shifting shapes geometrized the rune What dyed the pigment in your furthest eye Was joined with the paler canvas tones And cracked the varnished face our pebbled moon.