The abyss is my realm,
there, furthest,
where all light lives
to taint black my being.

There, in deep dark,
a tantric hiss
scales my harmony,
my core longs.

Here, amongst you,
my locks, my wings,
all veiled, eons
concealing my search.

And he finds me.
He faces me.
I gift him my blood
and shield his sail.

His sword is sheathed,
he looks into the faraway.
In his eyes, I wait for
his voice to tell my core.

I see shapes in your sunken eyes,
pressing like last night's lifeline,
telling you to keep your heart safe,
but I have to look away.

Please don't cry,
I can't possibly turn tears to gold.
I'm not the type to indicate
what should fill these empty spaces
and I don't know what to say
when you don't say it first.

When the shivering starts you'll see,
I can't be your blankets and late-night radio,
or anything you used to believe.
When those eyes mean oceans in mine,
you'll see how nothing I can be.