Drawn to you

As the sun is drawn to deserts:

As dust is drawn to surfaces,

Cold rests on the dead;

And darkness dawns on caves.


Drawn as a fine grey line

Curving toward my collar bone, the artist

Lending me his shade and definition;


Hung and quartered, dragged

From blooded street to blooded street

As the villagers draw to the violence,

And I, drawn entirely out

Cart-bound and ragged raw;


Drawn as a lovelorn sigh;


Drawn as a long, done day,



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