rabmle, ramble, sing-song


sometimes, i crave things, best kept to myself

in the quiet outposts of my mind

yet, dreams…they come

fast and free

when i close my eyes, and i am she

she knows no boundaries

nor does she care

who, or what, is present there

round about  midnight

when no soul is safe

there, she finds her hiding place

she waits, with patience

  till such a time

when unsuspecting lovers rise

deep in the night from passions, true

exhausted from the me

worn out from the you

as they lie so quietly in the still

she wanders over, closely to

and takes from them when they expect, the least

her sticky, dark, and violent feast

she sups upon their loving wine

born unto them, no less, divine

until, at last, she’s had her fill

her soul, strengthened

her mind

her will

then she arranges them in love’s repose

and blesses them before she goes

thanking one, and then, the two

for doing what the gods can’t do

their offering filled her very soul

with a gift they never meant

as she dances quietly away

still drunken on salvation’s scent

2 thoughts on “rabmle, ramble, sing-song

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