“It’s been a while.” He says.
Black Dog’s eyes are smudges, he leaks lipstick
I heard him before he arrived, muttering under floorboards,
beating like a moth behind curtains.
“Are you coming for a walk?” He asks in my voice
and I’ve not heard that one for a long time.
Black Dog grins
Teeth out, white wave crests gnawing at the shore
Arm in arm we walk across nightblasted sand
Me in my funeral suit, black dog in his fur.
We kick up blunt glass beneath sprawls of bladder-wrack.
“It’s been a long time since we came here.” One of us says
We stare at a squid-ink sea
Unbroken by birds or wind
“I’ve missed you.” Black Dog says.
I hear his smile.
We scream, wolf-howls until I cough black
Up and out, great stains on my shroud
All that black from the deep
All hacked out
We go quiet
We have nothing left
In the still air, lows the endless call
Of some floating bell.
Calling us home.