You belong in a forest,
Where delicate pines sway
In a bitter wind,
And all is silent in the day
But for the sudden crack
Of the freezing sap -
And when the moon is high,
The wolves will howl
At the silver disk, hanging
In the star-strewn sky.
I wish I could gaze in real time
Into those dark and lupine eyes,
That seem to see right through my soul,
Greying-blue like stormy skies.
I would run my fingers
Through your tawny mane,
Tangled in embrace, I think
That you would seek to do the same.
You look at me as if you know,
All my secrets, but do not care
How imperfect I clearly am,
Or how much I choose to share.
And something I value in a person,
Is seeing things within their eyes,
Your image speaks a thousand words,
And tempts my mind to fantasize...