The Dance.
Ben Dunne.
The night had grown
weary,
I had my similarities
with the night.
My black cape,
My black mind,
My black eyes.
She had her way,
She deigned to comply,
She could not resist.
My hand, struck her body
so fierce.
Her yelp, ambiguous
as it was.
She, it, terrified,
I had my similarities
with the night.
My black intent,
My black will,
My black deed.
The dance I showed her
her dance, her fear.
Like her nature,
angry as an amateur,
as she was frustrated.
Morning come,
she does not wake.
Walk into the sun,
squint upon the light.
I had my similarities
with the light.
My white intent,
My white will,
My white mind.
