The delicate demons we harbor
Intricate like neurons, fragile like veins -
Our monsters - made of storm clouds, made of lace
Flames that trace our fault lines
That but a breath could extinguish.
The delicate haunts that swim in the moonlight,
Rise like hairs along the skin - at a touch
Of stinging tendrils, like a promise, like a guilt
That whispers into the dark.
They glow so gently within, calling us into the dark
To see them glimmer so.
Let them shimmer, let them burn
Let them dance away into the night.