Never, never again?

Not on nights filled with quivering stars, 

or during dawn's maiden brightness 

or afternoons of sacrifice?

Or at the edge of a pale path 

that encircles the farinlands,

or upon the rim of a trembling fountain, 

whitened by a shimmering moon?

Or beneath the forest's 

luxuriant, raveled tresses 

where, calling his name, 

I was overtaken by the night? 

Not in the grotto that returns 

the echo or my cry?

Oh no. To see him again-- 

it would not matter where—

in heaven's deadwater 

or inside the boiling vortex, 

under serene moons or in blood less fright!

To be with him . . . 

every springtime and winter, 

united in one anguished knot 

around his bloody neck'.

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Page last edited February 14, 2000
by: PhoneBoy