Now I lay me down before the false
fire the friend of my hard hearth.
Now I hear the sound of my beloved
my breath my break my broken
heart is a word that eye rhymes
with meat like something once
alive and savory. Savored. Savoir faire
the affair of saviors on the Sevres china
the sealed set we save for guests.
We never use the plates, just for display.
We splay our mess and more we ask no
strangers pass the door. Here I am
to give you the realistic view. Are you sure
you’re ready? Come on through.