The Frightful Nobody

I seek to reach you on these last of all possible days.

Your spaces know no breach
And in the climb up with you,
In you – or terror walls.
You run your hands through
Their clawed dimming efforts,

“the ceiling even”

It was no surprise

When you didn’t
Come back out.

You know, they still

Run the ovens.
Nothing has changed,
Lord
Nothing has changed.