Unconscious shadows

those visions of last night
only seen in nocturnal sight
and the conversation I had spoke
within the dark before I woke

a spirit of earth
some see as mother of nature and nurture
I was to prove her existence
from a pile of her bones

the bones I had tossed to a hungry sink
only the night before

and this spirit threatened
the bare flesh of my chest
with obsidian claws of crow

from the anger of the roasted bird
I ate only the night before

there I was laid out
upon a primeval wooden table
and the spirit, with her
dark downy cloak and
abysmal eyes, lamented
for the loved ones I had lost

but I was weary of condolences
and tired of people telling me,
"I'm sorry for your loss"

I explained to her
they were never mine to begin with
for mine is not known in the language of love