STEPPING THROUGH MY SHADOW
An undertow, above and below.
An alluring enchantress showers herself, liquid black.
Calculations for my brain, forty-six and two, are made.
In the cooling desert sand, an easel for her chalky skin.
Dusk retreats, purple and pumpkin, and she remains.
A silhouette, undulating, maybe a mirage.
And I want to drink her dry, sustain.
Crawling on my belly.
Knees to feet, to her, alive.
She, me, only mine.
Ten thousand days in our dusky badlands.
Tonight.