Aubade

We stood in the middle of a field

of corpses. It stretched as far

as the eye can see,

in every conceivable direction,

above and below.

They were new corpses.

We had not killed them, and

we stood there, in the field

was the world. 

He kissed my mouth. I laughed

and stumbled a little. My weight

landed on a belly, lightly covered

in dewy grass, and a sound, a little cry

came from the mouth of the corpse. 

We both remarked on this; 

we had not known

there might be a corpse

and that gas, lost in the belly 

acts on the chords to make a voice. 

His fingers, warm, wrapping my fist

and in the field's dawn 

chorus, elderflowers opened

their faces to the world.