nightshedding/

©2022 Michael Raven

waking feral forms
the shed skin slips slough
pulling willow white faces
in mirror escapades

could i...
would i...
may i...
kiss you tonight?

slowly silent her feet move ever
chill as night calling her other
she comes to me in slumber
my dead love comes to me --

she wedded whispers such
fog filled breath and fey:
shed your skin and slip with me
be wisp within the vale

everso and evermore

everso --

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