she never takes off her gloves

 

Fotografia de DCLanger

1

she never takes off her gloves.

but when she pats my face

I see the slain doves

and wonder...

how could I embrace

such killer?

as if by liquid hair

I rush my hand.

is it fair?

would I change her if I had a wand?

could she be more beautiful

lying there so graceful,

with no talons in my heart?

2

dark wings

the angel wraps

on my beloved

white gloved

assassin

for ages her claws

held my heart

she now

sleeps on my 

lap, deeply

yet her breath

is irregular

foul and waning

awakened 

by her fate

she knows

her eyes tell

she conforts

and allows

me to caress

her for as long

as my powerless

hands want

there's no place

for sorrow, 

or wonder

her body

is warm, my arms a 

craddle

sleep for now 

my baby

I'll be up a

little longer

als