The dust of things long dead fall through the light, Like Faerie flights between the louvered blinds, or, to a duller mind, not so entranced, wee galaxies of brushed-off matter dance around the confines of my mental wall. (while shadows creep on artful feet...) I stand here, interjacent, lost between what almost was and what could never be. I hear the strains of suffocated dreams, which swell and fade before the peak is reached. What agony to second guess defeat. (while shadows slide on every side...) I turn and see it there...some half-lived beast. No cheer can chase it, no, not in the least, A shadow demon hiding 'neath my face, It lies in wait to nullify my aim, if I should dare to dream of love again. (while shadows strike against the light ...) But I cannot shake off this evil twin, for it is me and I am surely him. This thing long held in expiation's chains. these eyes which gleam from ecstasy of pain, an orgy of imagined purity. (while shadows stalk in mocking parody...) I shudder, fall to knees, choke back the sounds of whispered supplications...no...not now. No prayers will send this creature to the pit where in the darkness passions burn and spit. But I will grasp this monster by its teeth. (while shadows sleep exhausted in a heap) Thus, clasping arms about its tangled head, I bare my heart to hungry mouth unfed. Like mother giving milk I gently tend and love it til its twisted limbs unbend from something broken growing whole again. ...and darkness makes the cup the light pours in. Copyright 2003-2015 Grace Lindsay. This is an original work by Grace, if you wish to publish it please contact her.