The Gnashing
George Clarke
Buried secrets
Mythic meanings
in tender oceans spilling crimson
A leaking thimble flowing fragile
Oozing tension into blue
Hear these howls hurling our present
I know what this costs us
Hear these howls
Embrace the gnashing
I know what this costs us
I know it’s exhausting you
Without you, I am hushed
A hush like cloaking garments over shivers
In this honeyed season,
why are the boys bleeding?
Have your tears touched someone’s eyes tonight?
Now I see you’re weeping with reason
