What will the Wolf say
When he stares the sun in the eyes?
When night becomes day,
Day becomes night,
And hard feelings fossilize into amber?
When Smouldering creativity
Meets twilight inspiration,
And the world fades away…
When I think of you,
I see shadows dancing on the moon
And faerie lights tickling the darkness.
A midsummer’s night’s dream
Created from the meetings of strange minds.
Perfected, time and time again.
One stroke, then another, sacredly
Etching, connecting, correcting,
Before sinking into contemplation.
An eternal carnival in your lair,
My body dies, divides, renews
Becoming one, yet another
With every step of our twisted process.
A mask within a mask,
A pile of pigment between your fingers,
A pinch of this,
A dab of that;
With the heave of a breast,
Lilith the predator, becomes prey
Caught by a hunter more skilled than herself.
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
Physical manifestations of primal dreams
Can tell no lies.
So, dig your claws into the fabric of my creation;
Let your hot breath linger,
As your teeth reach for my neck.
And tell me,
My humble predator…
What does it feel like,
When you’re howling at the sun?