There is a sweet evil in the innocent designs of passionate minds...
sliding past then around, then together, a death spiral of dreams....
touching at all points, even those we deny we would expose to the embrace
of the demons of our own passions...fashioned from the night you promised
but that never came, for you had caught me in the daylight...
and taken your fill in the killing light...and drinking deeply my prayers
of seduction as you took me in arms like the web of memory
and swallowed me like a shadow at equinox.


copyright William F. DeVault (wfdv)