He makes a weird face with his mouth

His wicked fingers breaking-

Feeding them to the vultures

A gash opens in his skull

Dust sprinkles on the ground

Like a book in an abandoned library

The shelves of which have buckled

From neglect

The door from which has been sealed shut

For days

For months

For years

For decades

For centuries

Until

A vacuum arrived

And cleared the ancient debris

Where the doors once again opened

And new stories sat upon benches on the wall

And that vacuum

Was an embrace