Tonight, when I step from my haven,
My weapon and shield stay behind.
Tonight, when I walk through my forest,
I ache with need but half-defined.
If my heart were a hill troll attacking,
I would drop it with razor-thorned spell.
If my heart were a stumbling child,
I would leave it to starve where it fell.
Tonight, every foreign mind whispering
Abrades on hopes shattered and rent.
Tonight, I step out of my forest
Like a nightmare the jackal-lord sent.
If my heart were a late-blooming rose,
I would cut it to die on the vine.
If my heart were a last beam of sun
I would shade my brown skin from its shine.
Tonight, I drift lost through the grasslands
Disturbing no plant’s trailing leaf.
Tonight, I walk into your city
In shadow, like bandit or thief.
If my heart were a fluttering bird
I would cage it close, no more to fly.
If my heart were a swift-spinning spider,
I would wait: with the frost, it would die.
Tonight, as I shadow your doorway,
My wishes twine, tangle, and lace.
The rain starts to fall from above
And hides the lost tears on my face.
If my heart were a grovelling servant
I’d dismiss her before end of day.
If my heart were a path in the forest
I’d turn to seek some other way.
Tonight, knowledge stalks towards perception,
And I see that you’re not coming home.
I turn like a spirit retreating
And leave streets for leaf mold and loam.
And my heart is no troll and no rose-vine,
And my heart is no servant or child.
It grants and steals strength as if dicing
And it manifests passioned and wild.
And there’s naught I can do to stop weeping
Or to pick up my shattered control.
Somewhere you dance in your city,
And, knowing, my heart is not whole.
Tonight, I sit under wet branches
And whisper an unanswered prayer.
In the morning, unthinking, I reach out--
of course, you’re not there....