a winter mind

Nick Cave Nobody's Baby Now by Saklas

He never shows himself by light.
His form is blurred.
---William Bronk.

The wintered mind, the withered gaze; hands, shaped by regret- or something else, you can't tell any more-remain unclenched; the heart that withholds much...a name, without title, belonging to nobody. A darkened face, the lights dimmed, the low-blue flame sheltered; rooms kept bare like an empty lean grave, the bed unmade, books cold as stone, stillness held, shadowed soul, the locked mirrors of your eyes, the stopped clocks spilling time into silence, unanswered questions, bleak skills, these: silver inheriting the black, words unspoken, windows left open to the night...all this so that when raven alights, she will feel at home, feed on my flesh, and die without knowing it.