The Dream (A Gleam of Silver)

Was she real,
that mysterious woman,
who laid the cool whiteness of her body against me.
Soothing my fiery soul?
Was she a delusion of my furnace brain,
A desperate ghost of my needs?
Sweet mother of mercy.
red lips, white hips,
night ships rocking on a whispering sea.

Then...

she was gone but not forgotten.
Her legacy, a silver snake of thin resolve.
Wriggling in my fluttering veins.
This snake, not a creature of deception.
A useful ally against this sunlit, stark
shadowed world of simple do or die.
Faint perhaps, but there is hope in the
enduring subtlety of moonlit magic.

Hope...

A mothers smile, A lovers sigh.
A gleam of silver in a darkening sky.