The One Whose Light Was Dark

                2 Xeth

tell me i'm good baby
throw your arms round me
run you fingers through my hair
for your hair is dusky as the celtic twilight
and of all the daughters of the sons of men you are the most comely
tell me i'm good
run you fingers through my hair

she was dark
hair dusky as the celtic twilight in the days of forgotten abbeys
not observing the roman calendar
winds howling in the ravines
the ridiculous fishermen's boats
sheep flocks giving birth to their young
and she peered through the twilight
and she played for the dark side
being up to no good
and what do you know i was fully prepared
to scale many crags for her sake
for she had promised
that up there on the northern pole
in the bloom of fluorescent vineyards
she would show me her breasts

throw your arms round me baby
tell me i'm good
for I'm not sure myself

she was fair
like the elfin maids of imagination
or the lyrics of a tarry indian song
of which only a pitch-black
dusky singer of tarry indian songs
could have conceived
kama the god of love had fashioned her
in such way that, but i digress
she was covered with valinorean dust
and she peered through the twilight
yearning for i knew not what
so i twanged on my stringed musical instrument
and i cried the tears of the prodigal son
disconsolately

throw your arms round me baby
talk to me about freedom
play the fool with me

the sun shines on the virtuous man and and the sinner alike
of all the daughters of the sons of men you are the most comely
the divine wind blows through the virtuous man and and the sinner alike
of all the daughters of the sons of men you are the most comely
like unto a blossom of the punic apple
in a fluorescent vineyard
it blows through them it chills the marrow in their bones
so they succumb like poisoned rats
disconsolate
to the sound of penitential psalms

what is that soft white spot i see
dimly through the darkness
is it your eyes peering through the twilight
zeroing in on me
to give me the gift of your love
like unto a punic apple
so that I would succumb like a poisoned rat
in a puddle of marshmallow pink
on the floor

kiss me baby
tell me i'm good
throw your arms round me
run you fingers through my hair
for your hair is dusky like the celtic twilight
and of all the daughters of the sons of men you are the most comely
tell me i'm good
run you fingers through my hair
for the sand in the hourglass is running
short


Nov. 19, 2014
Mo$kkkow