Eyes blue as lapis, bright as chrysophase.
Its flame-red feathers flicker as if flame
bird keens high-flying, straining to proclaim.
Mourning of course, but also passion praise.
Black satin pillows for the Lord of Night
that do not show the bloodstain of his tears.
Who brooks no rule. This news a whiplash sears.
if pain submission brought her back he might.
And now his tale is done. And hers as well.
So many books, dark, wry and with a twist
Start to reread, go organize a list
The titles blur. Her words like petals fell
or snow. Made new and strange what lies below
transforming every story that we know