We asked permission before we sat down, side
by side, on your gravestones, a handy place
on our jaunt. I smiled to think the dead invite
such wanderers in to their parlor space.
Were you happy to hold us for a moment, as you
once held one another? Lovers, no doubt, come
seldom to your resting place. That you were true
we trust, coveting ourselves this premium.
Now you are privy to our reverie
if words can pass through veils and transcend.
Maybe we caused a stir in your ghostly
bosoms and reminded you there is no end
to this immortal dance that we've just started,
though you are silent now and long departed.