A Shadow’s Dance
***
The sun, through his cyclical leaving,
Beneath a flaking horizon, lies.
A sullen shift in tone deepens restless breathing.
How gentle the moon’s eye brushes wayward fireflies;
The silver light dangles pearls
Betwixt thickets of pines, whose darkness
Otherwise, would have my mind consumed.
A hand, gentler than Mary’s yet warmer than Lucifer’s,
Lies atop mine. Blood boils within my veins.
Fires burst suddenly in dried, brush ravines.
A rhythmic tremor, begotten of our crescent majesty,
Calls upon a symphony of silhouettes, falling in step.
My shadow revels amidst the otherworldly chaos.
Her eyes project an endless void, speckled with
Spiraling stars, burning within twin chasms. Steal this
Fleeting display. Not so much as a snapping twig nor
Crackling leaf to lead others
To our buttressed union of flame.
A nightly ritual has me possessed.
Her hands, which had seared my flesh,
Now, touch me as friend—as sister.
Her marks melt with the sun’s rising rays.
Welcome, sun; all is as it has been.
The moon wishes you a fine day.
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