She would come to me at midnight,

pale beneath the moon.

Moon hair, moon skin,

angel faced.

The sharp tongued brat

would cuss and rail her own compulsive need.

Having punished us both sufficiently

she would find excuse to make up,

worming beneath the sheets

with even shoes unremoved!

Perplexed, flattered,

needing her like life itself I of course

received her warmly.

This gorgeous hussy, angel of mercy

would descend upon my aching need,

fencing through the night, our passion revealed

beneath the naked moon's impassive witness.

Etched in my mind

her nocturnal ramblings' haunt, hurt,

hope me.

This sore confusion

has drained me, remade me.

First seen from a dream

oh. so long ago,

suddenly there she was,

the little glow worm of a friend,

sister, lover.

Yet pains' eclipse sated memory's bliss.

I cannot rise above this thing, do not

really want to.

Am I to be all sky, stars, lofty planets' circling?

Will not the Earth receive me,

know me for what

I AM.

You are that fecund Earth in whose gyrations I am interwoven.

Winter's orbit transits a chaotic solstice,

but spring comes around again.

I shall send forth my golden-silver rays to penetrate your hair cloud

those blue lagoons' your eyes.

Your mountains and your valleys, your soft, moaning places

will move and open to receive me.

I shall fulfil your deepest yearning, strike my lightning to your

becoming

mingle and fuse you me.

I love you,

yet am still above you.