Palm of silk against the glass;

if there is a moon

let it shine bright tonight.

Bay of the wolf;

if there is a reality

shatter it into star light.

Wings of ancient gods;

if there is a life

carry it away on crystal waters.

He is washed in red satin -

the liquid kind so warm beneath the skin;

soaked in the midnight hour.

A hit off a cigarette so sweet with longing,

drives his senses mad -

snowflakes in the veins and organs

turning crystal in the moonlight.

Light turning the horizon;

if there is a curse

feed it blood before the dawn.

Cry of the animal;

if there is a lover

hold it until the world crumbles.

Mist of forgotten lore;

if there is a lie

bury it in the blood of another.

His fur is black velvet and safety pins;

a wolf of night and stars twisted into human frame

his howls molded for human ears

sung to mournful notes of a wintered heart.

Rejected, dejected all hope at an end;

calling out for pale white flowers in the dark,

blossoms to bloom in the night.

Faith in the desert;

if there is breath

send it on rose petal wings.

Heart of the warrior;

if there is immortality

bind it with her eyes.

She of the flower;

if any could deny

let them wither in the sun.

Pale petals like crushed velvet beneath his fingers,

polished white-gold in the moonlight;

his fingers bruise in tender holds.

Soft touches of her lips; red moonlight.

The forest in his eyes, laid out bare upon her breast;

for once his howl is the wordless truth

shattering all the little scars off his body

as mountains shrink and soil overturns,

wind cries echoes his head

he is hurled back into the infinity of the night sky

by the touch of a midnight flower.

Desire without time;

if there is dreamland

hence it forward on snow skin.

Freedom of the cowboy;

if there is danger

send it off with a gunpowder and lead.

Hunger of the wolf;

if there is battle

meet it with feral teeth.

Love of the moon;

if there is eternity

let it be in their arms.