whispering worlds

flesh is tight across her face,
		across the bone beneath (not fey,
		nor painfully—
she is not unpleasing),
		skin,
		cartilage and
		skull,
her staring eyes.	her hair.
		(she is dark and lovely, as
my love is dark and lovely, and yet she...)

		these are lunar intrusions.

whispering worlds walk behind her,
		but leap to shadow when I,
		whirling, turn...
I cannot achieve the truth of these, and failing,
		find them only
		in her eyes.

		the strange woman
and the whispering worlds
		will come to you,
		as they have come to me;
		what will you do then?
why?
		why?




				—W. Gregory Stewart

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