Never the Sun

Never the politics,

Impoverishment or provocation that sets to flame a lion’s eye

Never the sun

The sand nor blades beneath his claws

But the lust for blood

Angelic, anemic and weak

It is the white fang 

Curled intent 

Pandering for the moon in the Kalahari cool African night

Never the song

The air or outer seance that press the red coral buds on branch

But the call to chaos

The feast to live and die with spring

The battle

Before the light is swallowed whole into its dim wintery paralysis 

Never the want of you beside me 

Brush of hip and breeze against our skin

That brings my memory and want

But our ending

Before we had ever begun.