My wings are cracking,

drying, to a special shade-

an enduring pulse contained within.

Can I stretch and distend,

making you believe?

 

When my shadow covers yours,

imagine what you are afraid of,

as slight hooks press firm to white flesh.

Swallowed in penumbra's fold,

your light rises, as sovereign wings descend.

 

Allow the flutter of moths,

wheeling about you.

Through you.  In ossuary,

this soft, rapid prate

cloaks my votary kiss.

 

Stifling your upturned eyes,

all I ask is respect.

This shade is all my own.

Oh, my delusive, glittering little pinion,

do you like it when I touch you?

 

I will conquer you.

I will sacrifice you.

I will conduct such abrogation,

and I will rise.

 

I am diuturnal.

I am a special heart's desire.

You will be my offering,

Shallow Wings,

without the ability to fly.