NaPoWriMo 2020 – Day 7

Gravediggers

In black robes, they lick their lips
As they move in mass
Toward anticipation of earth
Piling up with each shovel full
Black robes whipping around ankles
Weaker with each prayer
Of not today muttered
With dried cracking lips
Devoid of warm bloody kisses
Earth may be more inviting
Than the truth contains
Colder than anticipated
Such a lover’s embrace
Toward anticipation of earth
Piling up with each shovel full
Waiting to cascade and bury
Weakness into earthy prayer
Never mind if the victim is willing
The earth will have a lover
Black robes or not

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