by Allison Grayhurst

          Crush this colour

                        of filthy grey that summons

                                    all my parts to follow

                                                into a labyrinth where

                                                            birds and beasts never go.

            Because I am alone in this nadir,

                        and bitterly red is the hope I hold

                                    to relieve me of this sterile station,

                                                crush my name and when that is done,

                                                            my tomb and all its witnesses.

            Strike this snare with almighty

                        Light, let words and flesh fade until

                                    only the nightmare fire remains

                                                to burn and turn me once again

                                                            death-knowing, anew.