I still borrow your image in the darkness
laying it across the proficiency of my fingers
weaving a fantasy with the loom of longing.
A wild and unrelenting storm I am
in the quiet that awaits dawn.
Satiated with satisfaction ;
a spent frame quivering like a bow. You
play me to perfection with my own touch.
In spellbinding creating you wave your ebony magic
across my ivory intention and I spill the rain
of long overdue tears.

Trembling I am
calling the black hand from the lake of midnight.
Moon shadows and mad meanderings
awaken dark mysterious depths,
prying open my yesterdays
with the creeping hand of secrecy,
crawling along the flesh of my imagination ,
the rawness of my need.

Come, I call you, come to me, my hand is waiting.
Wild and unrelenting fingers aching.....
Let me borrow your image in the darkness
One more time.