It was night
glossy black stars dotted
vermilion-like beads
down along the cypress
our talks were sober
the tree nymphs trembled
our sweat sighed,
clarity revealed.
We were two tombs creaking
you tempted me with demons
jewel cold, spoken like a
charmed storyteller.
Lured, left shimmering
shuddering quiet with a
torment which has no equal.
I broke wild roses
without pardon,
to hold sapphire souls
clasped by fire.
D. Claudia Ash
March 2003