Ah, love, the days that stretch between us
lie dormant, bereft of motion,
exhibiting the barest whisper of breath,
like a dragon who sleeps for a hundred years ...
Coiled still and dreamless,
a massive hulk of bleak hours,
splayed across the chill stone floor, cold skin,
and echoed, silent cries resounding
for the touch of your warmth.
These black days curl like talons, hard,
thick scales of armor around my heart, guarding it
from the wicked swords of empty nights
and days without dreams,
sharp enough to pierce the heavy hide
and draw blood, straight from the heart.
But, like the dragon, the promise of reawakening
fuels our love, keeps us breathing in this twilight
and soon we will stretch sleepily in the dark stillness,
golden eyes blinking into awareness, rich with magic,
And our mighty wings will unfurl
and touch one another across the starlit night
and, crying out to life, we will spring upward,
one single, powerful thrust of muscled legs,
sending us soaringinto the sun.