Shadow

Nightlit, she comes to me
At silence’s deepest hour
That breathless bitch,
Beyond a reach within my own,
She comes to taunt with blood red
Lips, and smooth unpainted nails
That know the knots that will
Unfurl the flesh from off my bones,
If passion and aggression colour
Dark gold her eyes, then she will
Pull me to the water’s edge
Where rushes rooted murmur still,
And show to me my fear of her
Tight sinewed clutch, mirrored
She kneels at the lake, as such is her
Contempt for this feebled living soul,
She claims her beauty in the ugly rage,
That stalks my shadowed thoughts.