April Anthology 2016 - Chapter 1

[01/04/2016]

I’m done with chasing will o’ the wisps,

I tell myself –

No more sparks that die too soon.

I’ll stick to drinking the warmth of day,

Or schedule my waning like the moon—

But the fairies laugh if I try to withhold

From following,

From sweet, pale roaming.

They have all the power

Of a golden hour,

Or shadow fingers,

Or storm-purple gloaming.

And my muse’s half-siren,

Half kitten-at-play,

And she’ll toy with my heart until I stay.