You implored me with saturnine eyes;
perfidious as still waters barricaded in stone,
this darkness had crept, caught you unaware,
summoned cracks in skin and like grue silhouettes
painted all in black and hid from the light.
Like the breath of a shutter flinging storm,
came my sigh, as I failed to meet your expectation.
"True love does not come as a flare,
capable of forging ebony shards out of death,
it does not inlay cracks with gold
and douse ancient monuments in silver light,
it speaks in dulcet tones, comes crawling
through the canopy of emerald leaves,
quivering from the dewy breath of morning,
and slowly embalms you in its warmth.
Baiting you to last 'til the still tide of noon
when it bends shadows to paper thin lines
and dries your cuts to make them mend."
Before that sigh could expire
and dry from my damp lips,
I caught it by its fleeting tail,
and the question became,
would you shrink,
swallowed by the shadows
or be patient