| Time�s Chase Time�s fingers part the air, and the earth moans cold beneath I run with the sound that only running can make, tenderness let loose to pound inside flesh, flagging down any wanderer happening within fields of words... The cricket listener, the twilight whisperer, the man that stands hard between the rivers at dawn Nothing spawns my treachery more Still, Time creeps upon my hem, pawing shouting Hurry, but wait, You...Day Creature! Nights hide within your skin He strives to coddle me lilting... �such sublime temptation of breath, fluttering sin from sin so naked, that I am winter, and you are nothing I can touch Not now...that is.... Not until you are weak and I am the cloud man that comes with eyes of sky and a smile of tufted desire You are naked, supple, flushed in the ways that fleeing, nor borrowing will ever render.� �You are old,� I said to Time... But not so strummed and listless Just as Rodin created bodies in the shadows If the world stood still, spin it would, the youth of red filled veins � Dark Mistress 2003 |