Too bright the light
While the succubus sleeps.
Too harsh, too hard
The concrete skin of sun-bitten streets.
Give her the moon.
Give her horned creatures standing silent in the silver light.
Give her owl's eye and raven's claw in velvet pouch of night.
Give her a home in a deep-scored bone.
No one dreams well while the world burns bright.
No whisper can survive the stabbing beak of noon.
Let the succubus wake when the river runs black,
Reflecting sinking stars that flow ever slowly down.
Give her the moon and your silver-lit dream.
Leave your hair spread easy, and a lantern on the boom.
Kiss her in the darkling depths,
Her sweet deep-blue renown.
painting: The Lorelei, by J.W.Waterhouse
linked to One Shot Wednesday