After the death of the dark,
in the way you wore
your smile, I asked you to
see me at dawn, before the
sun rises.

A star is born,
you take on the moon.
I embrace my poem.

You own the candle.
I was the flame.
The light pays homage.

A timeless pain
still follows you in woods
to stitch the womb.

You have to run
away from the wolves
to save the doves.

There were no more allusions.