Drawn

 

 

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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