With my white wreath thumbs,
With my prayer palms,
With my dear departed fingers,
With my callouses like the hats they’ll wear,
With my knuckles hearing the eulogy of a friend:
I am the funeral of no lover.
With my gravestone tongue,
With my moss covered teeth,
With my rich overturned soil lips,
With my tonsils like a bell tower at midnight,
With my gums engraved with ‘Here lies a good friend’:
I am the graveyard of no lover
For my mouth shall marry my hands
And spit my palmistry: unlover.