A waning day’s breath steeps in misted pine

One house alone, unbent beneath the night

A book half-read, the crust of bread, the wine—

Her hum seducing silence towards the light

-

A perversion of peace from down the hall;

Floorboards creak as a shadow creeps the wall

The vile trespass yearns to still her call

But her delight answers first, and claims it all

-

On the wooden desk, a candle bleeds slow

An old, frayed carpet sips the wax below

Her breathing grew thicker, steady, and low

Tenderly, she chokes the flame’s loving glow

~•~

Her lips curved softly, a sweet hunter’s hymn

The man, in horror, stumbled back to flee

He thought the darkness sheltered him

But her blood danced, lit by primal greed

-

She glided forward as silken, hushed smoke

No breath betrayed the silence of the room

In her darkened eyes, aethered hunger spoke

He turned to run, each step announced his doom

-

The dust withdrew, fine motes that stirred the air

They coalesced once more, unmoved, unbound

She passed; they kissed her cheek—a whispered fare

As if to say: “You, Love, have earned our sound.”

-

Down the stairs, their drone echoed from the hall

Marble statues observed the futile chase

They mocked the man’s fear and lifted their call—

Hollow harmonies rose to haunt the space

-

The house seemed to quake, convicted with rage

Like time told too soon, as a webbed thread cut

The man tripped, instinctive flight now his cage

She descended, enraptured and corrupt

-

The shattered window in the backdoor frame—

Howled, harrowed by grief: “He ruined me!”

The damning chorus bound the man in shame

Pale, silver eyes beheld his own defeat

-

Vindication thrummed in her every vein

The knife he’d brought lay fallen, cold, forsook

She lifted it now, and locked with disdain

Her magnum opus sealed with what she took

~•~

But it all dissolved—hot wax through fingers

It was not real, only burned to consume

No more music, the candle cold, un-bloomed

His voice, the only remnant that lingers

-

He criticized her overdue response,

She hurries through the hall—unkissed and late

Down the steps, statues offer no debate

The window frame whole, devoid of all nuance

-

No sacred glory, only his next beer

He's grown irate and slams the cupboard door

She pauses…could it be? A dissonant chord?

He flips the table—an itch in her ear

-

Godless ashen eyes that had quivered before

Held hers again, and she tried—Lord, she tried

But up crept a grin, crimson down the side

Could he not hear the shimmering, soft, score?

-

How it rang! With its swelling, drowning chime

But Harold could not sense its perfect pitch

She lifts her hand and feels for the switch

Darkness engulfs them, resolute this time

~•~

A waning day’s breath steeped in misted pine

One house alone, unbent beneath the night

Her hum seducing silence towards the light.