Alien to Expectations

She was the type

With the unveiled eyes...

...Born quick out

Of salt,

On the boil

All her life...

...Grazing the

Sidewalks!...

She prowled the dark

Streets...

...Still anticipating

When again we would meet.

She was the one

With no weight on her back...

...Always swift as

The sun

When the day

Waned to black...

...Swooped down to

My rescue!...

She arose like

Hot flame...

...I fell at her mercy, as

She mounted my frame...

She was the verse,

And the chorus that stuck...

...Curled smoke fled

My tongue,

Where freak lightening

Had struck...

...Soft form of the

Shadows...

Drifting light

As a sail...

...Black long hair was floating

’neath the nebula’s veil.

©

2019

Bunny Villaire

Art by: Damie Leigh