Alluring starry eyes
hosting playwrights and mill workers
gathered in fire light
under the cover of darknessScene One: You walk in.
She tells me, "Lust is one of the seven deadlies"
with those glittering eyes.
Rain dances in her smile
and sparks ignite when she blinks
"FREE me, or be me!" The White Mare groaned
under the weight of tulle and lace
and offerings of many fine things.
"It shall be one helluva wedding," he/I said
And then I will be with you in the quiet darkness, like you asked
and rejoice in the dawn, when you come undone
"UNDONE?" she creaked.
Thunder spoke his name loudly
and lit the path
through the gardens
"Come- get wet in the storm,
you're not really formed
until the seasons have had their way with you."
I take her tiny hand and leap into Spring.
I will love her, in a meaningful dream
And she will be me, by tomorrow.