sorrow in the sphere of Venus

I dreamt of you last night.

dark dreams that break the dark with a truer sense of silence.
avatars and metaphors of dangers and strangers.
violence to my good wishes for you.
a sense of sorrow borrowed from
the histories and mysteries we've shared.

I dreamt of you last night.

and every muscle and sinew braced to pull you from harm,
only to be faced with the burnt ends of a rope
I would have cast you, blasted from my hands
by the demands of shadow figures
in your head, in your bed.

I dreamt of you last night.

yet no cold catalepsy returned to make mock by mettle,
only a hollow sorrow the the one promise
I'd ever gotten from you was orphaned
by the side of the road like a castoff kitten,
left to die, as was I.

I dreamt of you last night.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.