A background of stars
hair black as raven wings in the night
amber smoke from a lone candle
drapes itself over your naked body
like a veil cloaking your existence.
Have I imagined you?
Did I give you shape and truth?
Did I will you into my life?
You rise slowly, like a snake
smooth, sensuous, uncoiling
as your eyes caress me
from black, fathomless depths.
Outside your window
an owl hunts its prey
silently, lethally, efficiently.
from my poetry book Imaginary Lovers published last year
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Ursine Logic's Books and Art