By Julie Kinney
His long thin fingers tangle in my graying hair
Weaving poppies through my braids.
A heavy scent stains his fingers as
He strokes my face.
The sweet warmth of opium wraps around me
a blanket of fog and moonlight.
Night drips across the sky.
Thunder cracks outside the window.
Rain pours through the gutters.
I dream him in the desert,
Long dark hair swirling on the wind of dreams
Somewhere camel bells and wind chimes
Tinkle in dusty air.
Deep brown eyes, saddened and smiling
Blackness gathering around the lids
Children, I never remember bearing
Run on the playgrounds of dream
Riding the camels and eating dates
I am always young in the dreamtime.
Every time I open my eyes, I am older here.
He never changes.
Holding me, I will never age,
Wrapped in the dark arms of sleep.
We will have today, tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
He will never give me up to his brother
The god of death.