One time
I held a little girl's hand in my hand
and watched as her skin
absorbed my tears.
I told her
"Little girl,
one day
somebody will strip you
of your innocence
along with your pink, cotton dress.
Then one day
somebody will return, this time
with a blade sharp like wolf fangs,
and cut your hair
and cut your wrists
and lick your blood
while you stand motionless as a star
waiting for the dark Moon to go away
and the soft Sun to rise into the sky.
Only the thing is, and this from
me you
the shadow of the Sun creeps along the ground.
When you walk with your head hung,
you will always think it is the Moon enshrouding
you in darkness,
but it is only, and this from
me you
the shadow of the divine Sun."

Lilacs gently placed over her pink cheek,
Motionless with breath she does not take,
Asleep by the bank of the mellow creek,
For my flower girl does my heart feel ache.
For her slumber has separated us,
and only we meet in far, distant dreams,
where her cotton dress flows with each wind-gust,
and her skin smells of silk, peach-scented creams.
If ever in Heaven we reunite,
These lilacs I will tuck behind her ear,
and whisper my love to ease her sure fright,
in dulcet melodies just for my dear.
For the moment I lay by her still side,
waiting for God to remove this divide.