Shall I smite thee, Satan, with the right hand of truth
or heal thee with the left hand of love?
Shall I share the light that glows in my heart
or is darkness always enough
to light your path, to show the tread from moonlit forests to lovelorn wrath?
Her eyes are bright like diamonds, I confess.
Her whisper is the night’s caress.
She guides me with her thoughts and prayers
down hellish caverns, up holy stairs
where cats convene on evenings quiet.
My heart’s content, I cannot deny it.
She breathes into my dreams at night
like whispers of smoke from fire light.
And when I wake to give my weary tressses a simple shake
I smile, and all the precious while
she greets my heart with a simple wish …
upon my lips … an angel’s kiss.