There is witchcraft in the skies,
as the clouds swallow
the empty spaces in between,
consuming it like a lover.


There is witchcraft in your eyes;
as they burn through mine
impatiently, ceaselessly;
a forest on fire.

Shelter my eyes, with lighted skin,
Touch me with printed flame, rapt
In songs of joy, for I am unarmed,

Lift me to the spiral keeps of soul,
Spires thrusting in hearts firmament,
Set free in curled locks of your hair,

Let us be new as babes are nestled,
Long in the pines of the bristlecones,
Ageless and evergreen in cloudy bed,

Close the lids of night in sensate blue,
In eyes piercing painted skies of dark,
See my shroud cast out with the dawn.