I never knew how rich
the blackness was
until it burst into flame
with your Presence.
My bruise became your jar of wine.
Am I a crystal of snow
in the palm of your hand?
Let me melt away.
Am I wings in a cocoon?
Let me fly through the nectar
of your silence.
My shadow is fire.
What burned me away completely,
I became.
A stillborn tear
held in half-closed eyelids
between Winter and Spring,
I am the trembling seed
of Imbolc.
I have touched the bright
erotic darkness of your soul.
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