in the false half darkness,
your delicate fingers
trembled and transformed
into a fist

your face was just a shape
against the soft white pillow
my eyes were blind, I do not
know the colors or the forms
yet my flesh grazed
by teeth and claws of the jackals
in your sleep

i wanted to be a predator
in the grey sky of your cold memories
so your petal fingers could bloom
fingertips seek, trace, and claim
the five points of my own
waiting so we can ignite,
in between,
a star.