SilverSenseShaking House
Seized by the thought
Lost in your inference
That the walls held the roof
But I'm in the cellar
Lurking in truth
Rain seeps in
Dew or tears
So hard to shake out
Difference like this
He holds the umbrella, skeletal
Mortar crumbles
As bricks shift and yaw
They hold the floor up
From the basement
Eyes like pillars
Rebuild and require
Planks form like moss
They hold moist hands
Staring deep and free at last
Buttressed and in love
Curator of Tongues