Dress of mist about a beutiful mountain
Where the grace around trees is only black
Where candles can glow a hundred miles
Standing in my doorway
I could see you dancing in the fog
The thread of spirit
Was lost in the fall of a rock
And winter made me wrap my coat about me
Where the shame of wind burns my face
And tears turn to crystal
Where fire makes my heart loose its grip
And the thick paycheck
And the handful of lotto tickets
Standing in the light
A cigarette turns to ash in my hand
Black in my lungs
Eat
Feast
Maul my heart
Starving
For fire
For the black
I twist your fingers in my hand
Moon
Bright enough to shine
Until the sun forgets
To turn the trees green
And tells a time of shattered sunsets
In which I am alone on my doorstep
And you dance like a spirit of green