Poetry — Come find me, in the moonlit halls of night’s soul
Your tongue is a river of ink
spreading molten words
down my trembling neck
Your name escapes my lips
soft and quivering
like the first flutterings of a
butterfly’s wings
Hesitant and lost at first
Then strong and sure
against the wind
In my dreams you haunt me
lost in the tattered corners of my mind
Your eyelashes hang like stained lace
as the moon shines through
your slitted eyes
I wait in painful anticipation
for you, my midnight singer
to croon away my burdens
and rake your nails
along my shivering soul