All my dreams are made of ice
tinted with gold by your memory.
Like ice
they turn to puddles
with the rising sun melting the moon in the morning minutes

Once we were panthers,
sleek and powerful
embroidered in the silks
of midnight and dawn.
Passing the reflections
of city windows
as all bare streets
gave us their throats-
Tasting of blood and love.

And then the morning went away.

The dust settled with a silent thunderclap
the open streets closed upon us
with a wall of eyes,
We reached our hands forth
and touched nothing -
but the ivory shadow
left by
daffodils in death.

The day the morning went away.

We poured our questions
into the water supply,
we drank the mix
as the night rolled by.
It painted upon our minds
that we were snow coated deer
and soon we took their form.

We never made love again
we simply locked horns
until the roosters call
called us to stop.

For to make love
became a *******
and to **** without mercy
our golden seduction
into their secret submission

The day the morning went away.

Your perfect stranger
became your perfect enemy
your perfect enemy,
your  perfect friend

and you were silenced by the thunderclap
you were silenced by

the thunderclap.

My little panther
afraid of the quiet thunder
afraid of the doe eyed stare
that cuts you from the mirror
cuts you right down
to the bone.

I watched you place
your tiny
white
lipstick to the corner
of your eyes
and manicure
your perfect
stag horns
as you brace yourself
to step outside.

The morning mist
comes into your lungs
and you exhale
a liar’s hello
to all below.

The day the morning went away.

Our ebony coats were hung up on a nail
we once were panthers
now our hearts are meek
we once were panthers
we once chose to seek,
now we flee at the sight
of moths dancing in the
summer light.

We once were panthers
we once were panthers
we once were glorious panthers.