Drink deep the silver silky draught of your breath.
I tumble over in the void
your hand in mine
your weight on my chest.
A flash and a song
and the memory of an age.
And I the wolf of amber angst
impaled on your spear
bloody and snapping,
my life pooled underneath.
And I maimed and frozen
buried under leaf and snow,
the knife rusted in my side.
And I the lone crow
plucking forth my own eye
and circling high
into the risen sun.