The forest black beneath a northern storm
the fields are frozen with solstice gone
I retreat to my burrow
salamander prince
asleep on his nest
of ivory winter petals
I knew you were there
before the knock
roused me awake
to find you
pushing open the curtain
warmness crawling in
causing all sorts of
pleasant confusion
Your handprints
on the delicate windowpane
all night hovered
above our sleeping faces
like the aurora borealis
purple and white with frost
I wanted you all
your heart and whole attention
wanted your admiration
to never end
and when it finally did
I asked for your time instead
as a friend
one soul to another
mind forged manacles
begging to be broken
my empty palm filled by another
defeating
the Queen of Hell
one touch at a time
I have a friend
who came to my home
sat in my chair beside the bed
opened her golden skinned book and read
William Blake to me.
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YOU ARE READING
Just About Dark
PoetryTemperature dropping sucked away into night brittle pasture grass beginning to glitter mirroring fractured moonlight