Dusk

Like something ancient

and protected,

a myth,

a legend,

a hushed promise

sworn in secrecy

sealed with blood;

hieroglyphics

of an

untold

holocaust;

the nights templar,

keeping the secrets

from the secret

keepers;

of sheets,

stained and torn;

the apple of most

russet -

of whitest flesh,

found by lovers

writhing

and unconfessed;

an identity painted in lead

burns a geisha’s neck

and she sells herself

to an arabian in

taboo parley.

In this, 

a full moon 

shines out

from above a cloud cover -

a full moon

tells tales

of a deranged woman;

of werewolves

chomping at the bit

doctoral by day,

diabolic by night;

of a glass dome

holding the spell

of savagery

for ten thousand years.

The moon repeats 

itself,

bites its lip

bites the apple

bites her neck

bites the bullet

and splinters the sky

ricocheting with light

like fireworks

the first time I lied

and denied

her love

for him.