Eden

A visitation to a sleeping lover, half ghost story, half lullaby. In the valley where he sleeps she makes off to that mortal keep and asks for bed and burial in the same breath, lay me down, lay with me, where I left my love.

In the valley where the angels sleep comes the confession, a woman of immeasurable sin promising that whoever loves her will come to regret it. It repeats until it sounds less like guilt and more like a creed. Love is dead and she killed it, righteousness is gone and she lost it.