"Of Rust and Dead Sound" #Poetry

I know

that there is space out there

seated well between the scent and shape

of air

a tender repletion

a constant competition

of simmer and sweat and the best

plot yet

'Tho they wrestle the blood to the ground

I've found that there's nothing quite like

Dead sound.

Rattle bones and sweep the streets

this dark does ring

complete

although not quite as sweet

As a fresh beginning

Better than the ending and

in between

the scenes and sheen of a newborn friend

I found bells to ring heavy and

Rust in dust to bring

Me, simply.