“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.