Cornered in a circle

im a  jester  amongst  knighted  stallions   

a  concubine  for  self aware eunuchs  

the wind  in your  butterfly valley   

what did you harbor  through those shades  

woven are we   as intaked stardust 

in the contemplated sigh  of intrigue  

filter your ghost  through my gaze  

into night’s  wrinkled exhale        

we sift through blinking reveries

in the throats  of resting sparrows  

do not chase the wind 

only cloak the mouth  

for in  the uprise we drift through 

thunders pulse   

as castoff threads on a tapered memory  

as we fade       

in the  snap             

like  ashen echoes          

lost  as swollen hope           

in the valley of scars.    

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WhisperingQuill.All Rights Reserved.
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