Do you think a look

in the crystal vault of wanting

can secretly covet

without red’s betraying blush –

that some unsteady charm

will fool a close observer

and open the portal

on all of that heady rush?

Don’t overlook me

   or underestimate my power –

I rock in the darkness of night

   on a misty bower.

The clouds troll my words

   and carry my message on air –

slashing the canvas of space with

   a shadowy tear.

There’s fascination

   veiled in many disguises –

but some seek only the darkling

   feral surprises.

I glow beyond time

   like an ancient wayward daughter

birthed of the moon  – You can simply

call me an author.