Scotophili

In the Annals of Everlasting,
I saw your eyes shining
like forest jewels
that I had forgotten how to ponder.

In the Book of No More,
were your words
which would not leave
me when I woke.

For a time I put the books away.
The annals stood unconsulted.
The wind ripped each day away as it passed
leaving me to see each morning anew.

The sun grew and grew.
What joy!
And every morning, I approached
the grasses and we shared in prayer.

Yet still I knew.
How starkly it stood –
that absence by my side
with which you used to play pretend.

And now the trees looked sickly and hidden.
The hissing fury of untouched shadows,
and how they grew and grew
as I pretended I could not see them.