when the gossamer of sleep steals the senses
a beguiling call rings; the branches tremble
a crimson raven slips through the open window
hallowed shadow, clothed in wind and lunar dust

my dreams – a maddening labyrinth; a beast awaits

the bird leans, its eyes like holes
my wrists – an open pond of life
its beak taps and prods and spears
the murmur of the trees summons a mare

a pitch black horse
poking her head through the veil of darkness
dead eyes glaring, nightmares ushering in

my dreams cascade with oily darkness
when rubies ooze from pierced flesh
the feathers brim, it nips and flickers
coral and rubies, blood and sweat

it guides my pulse, it drips with delight
the bird’s eyes roll, it sinks so deep
the child of the witching hour, a sanguisuge
leaving rimes as she goes