this is the black that I cloaked myself in,
my father's inheritance,
cold blanket of blindness.
that is the crescent slipper I wore
on my feet.
I was Hermes,
coal, jet, fresh leather,
I was a ****** of crows:
a carrion cluster feasting on white
dwarfs and other dead things
that hang by this stellar roadside.
I was alone
and I thought it was magic.
I was alone
and I prayed for magic.
when I sealed that spell
the words made me jump,
I wasn't expecting
to see you here.