Her breath they buried
Within the lyrics of their church.
Her laughter they swept
Away into lightless’d corners
Gilded with shame, silvered sound
Painted red—but spoken blue,
Like the crooked curves
Between their teeth. For whom
Do you lie? The goliaths have gone
Back to their fathers. Only You remain—
And lessons yet unlearned. Let us
Then begin: The murder of a word
Takes only two: a little ima-gination
And the ecstasy of silence.