You came every night, my black angel, whispering in the ear to let go of the well I approached in the dark, blindfolded, to mingle my agony and the hours made of rose quartz, with the water. You tried to ease my pain after I knew that even the echo from the hole reverberated words that weren't mine. Don't give me up now. Shape my time. Your winged presence is my strength, your colour is my sight.
Inspired by a painting of WΕodzimierz KukliΕski.