After the death of the dark,
in the way you wore
your smile, I asked you to
see me at dawn, before the
sun rises.
A star is born,
you take on the moon.
I embrace my poem.
You own the candle.
I was the flame.
The light pays homage.
A timeless pain
still follows you in woods
to stitch the womb.
You have to run
away from the wolves
to save the doves.
There were no more allusions.