the shuddering firmament spewed out elegiac clouds
as a crippled crow waited for rain and hoped
for heaven's tears to rinse away
every evidence of sin while
the frantic thunder cried
an unrequited prayer

she chanted "you love me, you love me not…"
as the petals fell torn to
the earth, one after the other
and shrunken roses
lay scattered on the grounds
of the churchyard

she traced your scars with spindly fingers,
stitching them on to a machine you called a heart
and taught herself several ways to
excommunicate the moon
from your castaway eyes