When It’s Over

I’ll walk around my world when it’s over.
The walk is over
when I lay on your silver tinsel
and surveil your aluminum stars.

When I’m fostered by your dark arms,
the enforcer of many onyx keys.

When I listen to them breathe
and narrow my eyes
to the slit of a yawning wolf
in the Cévennes.

When my olive eyes will milk
down into a brown honey.

And when I’ll slumber under an array of honeycombs,
breathing deeply, our lifetime coupling–
the surrender to a certain lycanthropy.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s