Sweeter than wine
scent of cinnamon and myrrh
haunting my dreams
Between the eves
at first light
by flickering flames
before a curtain of cloud
Step softly round
what cannot be passed
what is set aside
an aching hallow
the bell tolls
there will be
none left behind
none unaccounted
it tolls for thee
Can your fragrance
Cover? Expiate?
make you one with the flowing stream
roaring round the rocks,
another drop of blood, oil and tears?
Poured out to purify feet and hands
swallowed in the ground
will you purify me?
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