I
Something haunting
stalking like prey;
burying in the bone,
her spirit forming,
restless and pacing.
Dreams of spirit
and the land; maybe she
is just more in tuned to
the earth’s churning.
No promise is broken
when faith and life
are there to evolve.
Her concerns fixed
on the lust for blood
she may just die alone.
She dreamt deep
the desert in sandy hues
warm breezes
open windows pulling in dry air
drapes in sudden stillness
candlelit rooms, shadows.
Diner put away
dishes being done,
roughhousing
leading to other things as yet left untried.
She stopped in the moment
pushed up from him
glanced at the knife having been set aside
and the thirst for blood, marking
weighed heavy
in deep labored breaths.
She reached for it slowly
he let her.
The candle flickered.
She dreamt of things as sure
they were never to be had
and woke in tears of loss
for this life gone to waste.
