No. Not tonight.
My soul is spirit wounded.
Hyacinth poet's blood
Sprinkled on the floor.
Strange dark telling
In the petal shapes
They make.
I need to be alone.
Feel cold so i can warm.
Human contact is a cut
Too deep to bear.
Feather blanket wraps me
In comforting bliss.
A black cat senses my wounds.
He curls up close.
Sings in low gentle music.
I fall asleep.
Dreams of my best friend
Visits from Heaven.
Strokes my hair and murmurs
Things will be better
In God's blessing
Of a new morning.
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