As I Walked Out One Evening-2017

27 Jul

As I Walked Out One Evening

As I walked out one evening,
I looked over his shoulder                                     Julia DarkRose FB 4
for vines and olive trees,
for marble, well-governed cities
and ships upon wine-dark seas;

But there on the shining metal
his hands had put instead
an artificial wilderness
and a sky like lead.
The stars are dead.
The animals will not look.

He, my deluded lover,
asked me to lay my sleepy head
upon his faithless arm.
Instead, I plunged my hands into the red water,
I plunged them in up to my elbow;
Stare, Oh how I stared into the basin
and I wondered why the world had chosen to miss
the shining darkness before them.

The glacier knocked in my cupboard,
the desert sighed in my bed,
and the crack in my tea cup opened.

So, I walked out onto the brightly lit lane,
it led to the land of the dead.

As I walked out one evening,
I went through the werewolf’s painful change.
Turning my head away
on the sweaty bolster, I tried to remember
the mood of my womanhood,
but lying in my sweat and blood, at last, as always,
letting it happen, the fierce fur,
soft to my face.

I now hear with sharper ears,
and live and love with the darkness
of my imagined fallen grace.
With my bestial understanding,
I open my wolfen eyes and truly see.…

The soul shrinks
from all that it is about to and should remember,
from the punctual rape of every blessed day, and cries,
“Oh, let there be nothing on earth
but what I choose to see,
nothing but rosy glasses to cover my eyes,
and gloves to cover my hands in the rising steam,
and guilty, blurred dances done in the sight of heaven.”

They never find the way out of their prison
and into the precious,
saving graces of the Darklight.
Pale souls they are, consumed by fear
of the living world they haunt.
Yet, they have not learned what habits lead them
to hunt what they do not want;
Nor have they learned who does not need them;
They are no one here,
until they are truly the someone they need to be.

Oh, what makes them so ugly, to me,
is self-inflicted ignorance.
Incurable ignorance.
I don’t want to harm them,
I think this very thought,
right up to the moment I slit their throats
with the truth.

I am touched with the moon’s red silver,
I am my own wolf sun,
made of human moonlight.

~Julia DarkRose
©2015/2017

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