It was me, peering through the looking-glass. Beyond the embrace of Christ. Like the secret face within the tapestry. Like a bird of prey over the crest. And she was swathed in sorrow, as if born within its mask.
Her candlelight snuffed, the icon smiled. Emptiness followed by her wake. I could clasp her in undying love. Within ghostlike rapture the final word was mine.
She faced me in awe.
'twas a token of ebony colour. Embodied in faint vapour. Wandering through April's fire. Compelled to grasp and to hold the one that was you. Compelled to grasp and to hold the one that was you.
I will endure, hide away. I would outrun the scythe, glaring with failure.
It is a mere destiny I thought, a threshold I had crossed before.
The rain was waving goodbye, and when the night came the forest folded its branches around me. Something passed by, and I went into a dream. She laughing and weeping at once: "take me away".
I don't know how or why, I'll never know when.
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