Metamorphosis

It was twilight.
sun
about to set
for the full moonrise
I was sitting with my wife
(Shadow, though it was)
wailing over my loss
when
you invaded
wretched dreams,
full of barren vigor


My self, trapped
in those two spheres of influence
astonished, bewildered
by this vanquisher in you
who had won
without any struggle
without any strife


You embraced this frostbitten firn
bequeathing a chilly warmth,
devoid,
of pains of separation
devoid of,
joys of sensation
but
warm enough
to induce a state change;


My face witnessed a blood riot
as innocent, as soft
as damp as yours
and then...
you deliver the final blow;
soft living tissues of yours
strike,
dead trenches on my lips
accouching exotic viands
sufficient, to enrich this tenuous existence
which, till then
was hankering for life.