There is a land where nobody sleeps not far off – buried in a morning’s grave the necessity of tenderness laid beneath a body protests on two knees.
He saw a girl that cried too much, her life from the knife of monster earth creatures that wait to keep us quiet the kiss of a prowl to tie each mouth.
Careful! They sniff the living! Who rushes out will fall down broken bones into skeletal corners the brittle-rattle where creatures creep the depth of tombs as flesh once did pain feeds pain and teeth lay thick.
Whosoever is found will be carried on their shoulders stalking the earth looking for others to prey on those who have warm veins.
Take refuge in the eyes of crows! No one is asleep here, bad omens have marks where ribs were torn!
The watchman is watching in silent shoes he peers into things from the corner of his eye snakes with waiting tongues here to feed again a fang comes closer to her nervous ear. . .
“Be careful out there we’re waiting where no one’s sleeping the mummified have shoulders death sits upon them red-eyed saliva with moonlight’s rabid poison in the hunt for skulls groping for flesh to chew on blood.”
I know of the leafy paths that the witches take Who come with their crowns of pearl and their spindles of wool, And their secret smile, out of the depths of the lake; I know where a dim moon drifts, where the Danaan kind Wind and unwind their dances when the light grows cool On the island lawns, their feet where the pale foam gleams.