Pale as the Moon

You held my hand with moon-pale fractals of fingers
we walked through trees like sages, to elf grottoes
sat down with ankles in springs and uprooted stars
I saw the universe in your eyes, death resplendent
galaxies of want painted in dreamdust on your sclera
and your lips were cold ice but your skin was snowy
drifts, windblown to reveal bone, and you stripped of
all semblance of humanity down to ribs and phalanges
we tossed temptation apples to feast, Death and Girl
and your marrow was sweet on my tongue, black cloak
a womb for transformation, kissing Death is winter,
befriending Death – loving it – makes you wonder how
all passages lead to title pages, and The End is only
a new beginning in a lily grove, spring in December
and in your eye hollows bees nest, waiting for dawn.

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