“You should take my dark passion
as an offering,” I said, the words
winging from my unhinged mouth.
I didn’t mean them, of course.
“Listen to him, for once!” screamed
your doomed mother, while above
us, the sky boiled and shadows
counted the cold, remaining days.
You dissembled, as always, and ran
away from the heat of my affection.
Now, outside your sanctuary, I pour
myself like quicksilver, running wild.
I will find a way inside soon enough.