…dance with the devil

Don’t press me
in your notebook
as if I am a memory
for sometimes
what happens in the dark
will come back into light
between the shadows
and the moonlight
lie all the secrets
all the hidden things
we keep unseen and silent
the past is endlessly whispering
circling the present
with our unspoken truths

for love is tenacious
ever lingering in the depths
of a broken mirror
a fleeting reflection
a dark dream of itself
that vanishes, over and over
into the ethers of time
where the most silent
of secrets
dance with the devil
tethered to the axis of evil
while impending chaos
is simmering in the darkness

even in the dark abyss
countless flowers bloom
the dark blossoms
of our pain
fragile yet beautiful
petal by petal
always just out of reach
floating freely
in empty space
in a magnificent sky
that once was ours
and like you and I
they are searching
for a place to fall

but our pages
are still being written
in the tracings of night
pages of pleasure and pain
dripping black for loss
red for love
ultimately combining
to form a deeper
darker shade
for you and I are one soul
and without each other
we are never whole
the clock cannot rewind
there is not time enough
for our sorrow
to forget itself

sometimes sins
have sacred undertones
dangling by a single thread
that we reach for
to fill our empty spaces
only to be covered by the ashes
from a single burning spark
that in less than a moment
leaves indelible marks
upon our hearts
that forever remain
as we slip deeper
into the past
© Ann Bagnall