the burial

and so the sky rolls its feet amongst the sand-hills,
each dust kick a mouth full of ashes to ashes,
the layers
building up for you,
blankets of thirst
for your journey.
and so the dry earth weighs you on it's chest,
your legs, sprouts doomed with each step closer
to the valley of transposition.
and so time sings it's spade downwards,
and so the earth tightens it's grip,
and so the sky tramples it's last beat,
and the notes keep playing,

and so
and so
and so