Necropolis

I move now in you.
Do you hear my raven's voice
chanting winged prayers?

We do not need language,
you and I, spirit shamans,
alive at opposite ends of time.

I breathe from inside your bones,
speak to you of antelope and lion,
and man and woman.
My fears crouch
around the fire in your brain.
You swallow my nightmares
and taste my joys.

Your words on the page
are my sharpened spears
which brought down great beasts.
Often you do not listen.

Your blood runs fierce in your veins
and you do not hear.

Feel my bones which lie under the sands
as will yours when your soul peels off
and your voice drops away and you join me
to whisper of love and awe in the night.