Writings of a creature
Beneath the dark torn cloak, shadows
of a specter stitched from fear and plight.
Eyes burn with borrowed menace,
shielding a porcelain body.
Each step echoes hollow strength,
clinging to the cloth’s shroud,
a second skin.
But the figure quivers, silent and small,
a fragile soul, fleeing fleeting sorrow.
Trembling gleam
illuminates her silk silhouette
like the sunrise gracing the mountain,
and a blanket over my cold body.
Her warm fingertips on my skin
burn her name deep within,
flickering light shrouding
our bodies, a new world
They blossom in spring
vulnerable imperfections,
each flaw: a snowflake
conjoined made perfect.
Wild hearts bathed in delight,
dancing desires united,
locked fingers as destinies sealed
by the golden candlelight.
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