Whatever's Behind The Shadows

It has been raining 

all day somewhere 

but not here.

I stumble over a dry mouth

spit out 

soundless pebbles.

A lantern burns 

into morning

then days weeks and years.
Its flickering 

shadows play fingerless charades. 

I've guessed
the end before the beginning. 

A black smoke 

smells of phosphorus 

spills an endless skid mark 

across the sky.
The wind spreads it. 

A shrunken head attached
to a skeleton key 

and a bag 

of gold teeth in my pocket
are the only possessions I've robbed 

from the earth.