Elucidate

My Three Day Week

Sometimes you cannot cure the quiet.
It sits like a random beast
in God's acre―a necropolis of nerves―
A vampire's feast,
That bleeds freely, into another Monday.

As though reined in from a haggard sky,
My footsteps fall like rain
in perdition―six ponderous chimes to a clock―
A dialogue slain,
I talk myself, into another Tuesday.

I promised you a feckless ever last,
I am widow to wingworn Adonis
in utopia―broken at last to rapacity―
An enduring kiss,
To drug the lids, into another Wednesday.