She was light when I needed light. She was darkness when I needed dark.
And she came to me in dreams even when I was awake.
There was fire in her touch. There was music in her laughter.
And the moonlight in her veins was more than this old wolf’s heart could take.
She was the ink in books of poetry. She was the quill in the hands of bards.
And no matter how far I wandered, I felt her everywhere.
She was consistently inconsistent…like the young Donne and the old.
But every time she held me it rocked me to the core.
There was fire in her kiss. There was music in her smile.
And when she turned to walk away from me she always left me wanting more.
She was somewhere between Heaven and unfallen Paradise.
And no matter how hard I fought it, I felt her everywhere.
I don’t know how long I’ll love her. Or if it’s really love at all.
But the piece of me that me she holds prisoner is in no hurry to escape.
Oh but the fire in her madness. And the music in her goodbye.
And the broken things that girl’s storm left lying in its wake.
And no matter how many empty bottles laid beside me on the floor.
I felt her everywhere.
L.B. Conrad
