only the dead are perfect
perfect in silence
you say
oh, so-and-so is at peace
and you are not wrong
but the dead
keep moving
like a handful of
shining white teeth
flung
into a still pond
ghostly white
fading
as
they
descend out of sight
while above
ripples ring
and crest
you measure the
depth of each trough
as it slices through you
the silence of the dead
is the roar of the furnace
only the perfect dead
move without moving
Words and Feathers 
Going to have to come back and read this a bunch more times. The teeth sinking in the water was amazing.
Thanks! That’s the best kind of compliment.
The verbs are what draw me back to the lines again, and the ‘above’ and ‘below’ references contain so much accuracy about the dead and their continued influence.
Thank you! I’m glad I could pull you in.