pixie-haired lover
she dons her silk robe
to walk upon lily petals
lying on the floor

she slipped through
the cracks—another
mirthful Delilah—
could she see my

we ran through streets
in and out of shadows,
portals to the underworld
where she was Queen

her beauty blossomed,
a forgotten rose, black and
blue; her cherry lips on mine—
mine. mine. she was mine.

one day,
God spoke to me
through the wind from
the windows—
i begged him not to.

the next morning was
too bright. i woke up,
donned myself in
my dead lover's silk robe
and left.

there were no lily petals
on the floor, only broken wood,
and splinters reaching deep
into my heels