I slide into black

Into the sleek lines

Of a vintage cocoon

The necrotizing shadows

Cradled between

Ribs and brows

Empty my persona

Of hopeful embellishments


Once I was ambrosial

I wore my youth

In tokens of spring

My words were flowers

My eyes primed

With rain and sun

My heart an eager fruit

Given in savage parodies

Of love


Once I yearned only

For another day

To celebrate my life

Now I yearn

For poultices and potions

To heal those wounds

Heedlessly obtained

Now I hide

For I fear above all



A crone of the Gray Waste

I propagate riddles

Tongue rasping like

Itinerant autumn leaves

I am none the wiser

But my words

Are harder to deflect

For they mean more now

Then they ever did

In courtship