POETRY

 Shadow Noir
by Bev Walton-Porter

How kind of you to visit me
shadow friend of mine
well-versed in mayhem
aficionado of sublime

Among slippery shadows dark
you stealthily invade these walls
spectre of sensual madness
collector of mortal dolls

Your pallid, rushing hands
wreak havoc down my spine
face contorted, yet satisfied
savoring my ruby blood-wine

Now we dance the minuet noir
pale bodies pressed as one
passionate lovers by midnight,
coffin-twisted animals by dawn.

 

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