They called her "darkness"
because everywhere she went she left a
trail of crimson
realities.
[She had ice in her steps, she had
whispers in her wake.]
She was living someone else's dream
and fell asleep to
lullabies of
screaming.
In the night-time she would
turn off the stars:
snatching wishes and
secrets from the bleached-black sky;
unfolding them gently and reading
them quietly to her splattered-smoky cat.
She planted roses with
graveyard dirt and collected the
dead petals
promptly afterwards. At
midnight she strolled
through dead-end streets
dropping thorns so she could
find her way
home
to someplace new;
and leaving sadness wrapped
tightly
and locked in metal boxes
on doorsteps.
When the moon slid
out of the sky, the world
awoke to daisy chains
and soundless skies.
