When the veil thins,
The breath of the world
Will rise in the chilling fog,
Flowing over low-lying graves
Where the throat of the earth opens;
Once taking in the dead,
Now it breathes them out…
I converse with them through candles
And the dead give up their secrets
In the rise and fall of flame.
Communion, confession
In flickering licks of light,
In dead tongues of fire.
