Dead Ships
To 'V'.
Cloaked in cloud,
milky fullness,
gleams
but is not seen.
A silvery shepherd,
lost;
poised beacon,
burnt out.
Your sharpened tongue
pierces stillness,
spilling
spiked
mutterings,
flooding my peace;
our unity.
Adrift alone,
amidst dim gloom,
wandering,
devoid of luminous consort.
Drifting,
as a dead ship sails,
hollow,
lugged toward
a powdery bed.
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