Masque Poetica
I can write you a poem In any flavor. Shall I make it dark A hungry desolation, A gnawing emptiness, Growing with desire, Dripping with lust? I can be your incubus. Or would prefer innocence Youth, a lonely child On the cusp of discovery, Filled with hope and possibility, Running in the sunlight, Dancing with fairies in the dusk. A memory of a time, When you still felt alive. I can be your salve. The words are easy. I spin them like yarn. Building a tapestry That I offer freely, Then fade away, Revealing nothing.