It was always simple, in the circle of your hands
the easy motion inside my skin of need and blood
and outside the wind was nothing but the sky
full of clouds and promises and the touch of rain.
willing always, jealous of your skin, to have you inside
my mouth wide open to the dilated center of your eye.
His storm drew you in tight to his whirling eye
and still I was entranced by the motion of his hands
wondering what was hidden, pale, inside
if ever I saw spilled his ichor blood
would it flow across the world like rain
the color of mine and yours, or the sky?
There were no questions, in the aching sky
home, familiar and unchanged while I
had nothing to show but the memory of rain
spent wrapped and protected in your soldier's hands.
perhaps it was always a flaw in my blood
to watch you and wish myself inside
But neither one knew what nested inside
the one we both held enshrined above the sky
a sleeping madness of tainted blood
and the flaming dark in his fey-slit eye.
I never thought it would be your hands
to lift rebellion against his reign.
I recall how his hair would shine in rain
with my face pressed to glass, watching from inside
as he would dance and you would follow his hands
unheeding the destiny that swung in the sky.
such a dimness in my reflection and I
never thought such greenfire to swirl in my blood
But too I remember the heat of your blood
and the empty noise of windowless rain
and the shuddered closing of your golden eye.
I would keep you and lock you and shrine you inside
I would laugh like you did at a darkening sky
and spin sweet steel death like a blade in my hands.
The truth is in blood, I can't keep you inside;
His meteor rain pours down from the sky.
In the burn of my eye I remember your hands.