Death's Transfiguration

Centuries lain in twilight satin
Soon the dawn shall bring repose
Casting forth a life now laden
Drowning with his sin of woes.

Hers was oft the voice of laughter
Hands so soft, and love devout
Shining bright the two incisor
Wounds upon her lilting throat.

His was drawn into her shadow
Hovered with her every motion
So consumed, his joy did canto
Ceased her heart's demure devotion.

Never glancing, ever seeing
Eyes of dark, unholy grace
Pulse of cold, her crimson streaming
Comingles with his earthly trace.

Aimlessly his vast despair
Cursed in every breath he breathes

Life defying, past revolting
Daylight shafts, at last, shall tear.

Finally, her eyes reopen
Like chrysalis in warming air
Celebrates how love shall render
As butterflies, to kill despair.

Sleep Wrinkles

Buttons from a Teddy Impressions of sound safe sleep Sleep wrinkles speak of my last nights A pen on pages wet from a weep Once, the lacey blouse Of a great date Then, beer-soaked laces of a football In the mirror, heading to work, late Sleep wrinkles may say If I had a good time, or not For the guy who sold me this lovely grave He's cussing those sleep wrinkles Two days old, looking like a 38