Masque Poetica
I can write you a poem
In any flavor.
Shall I make it dark
A hungry desolation,
A gnawing emptiness,
Growing with desire,
Dripping with lust?
I can be your incubus.
Or would prefer innocence
Youth, a lonely child
On the cusp of discovery,
Filled with hope and possibility,
Running in the sunlight,
Dancing with fairies in the dusk.
A memory of a time,
When you still felt alive.
I can be your salve.
The words are easy.
I spin them like yarn.
Building a tapestry
That I offer freely,
Then fade away,
Revealing nothing.