Untitled 2

Your pain goes so far
No further
Who hasn't seen grey skies
Hasn't lain on damp sheets
and woken as empty as their bed?
Oh your grievers
Bent heads and clenched fists
What is gone
Has gone beyond the gnashing of your teeth
What is left--
the tears on your face, the twinge in your flesh
these things are yours
and a reproach to heaven
but no good food to ghosts, who eat blood.